And Now for the Cosmic Egg's Next Trick
by Sidura
Summary: Prequel to Dog Diner Afternoon - How Dean Forester's life got turned upside one more time, though not because of a cute brunette but through a case of mistaken identity and two brothers, who seem to have a slimmer hold on reality than all of Stars Hollow.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing or no-one, because that would be wrong and people would complain.

Okay explanations - a long time ago I got bit by a bad plot bunny and wrote a supernatural crossover story (Dog Diner Afternoon and it's on this site somewhere in all its unbeta'd glory). Long and short of it, I finished it and a few people read it and I thought I might as well write a prequel to it, so people have an idea how it all evolved in my head and this is how it turned out.

So here it is, the story of how Dean Forester went from mild mannered construction worker to being forced to spend time in the company of two 'out there' brothers.

A/N This is set after the Gilmore Girls finished and during the third series of Supernatural, so Dean Winchester hasn't been to hell just yet and Ruby when she appears is the blonde mark one version

A/N 2: I will warn people this is the story of how Dean Forester found himself in the world of the Winchesters so there isn't actually a lot of appearances from the Gilmores and co. They are there it is just well, but Rory isn't going to come round the corner to ride off into the sunset with Dean Forester. I'm sorry if people want that but it means the other story won't make any sense.

A/N 3: Last one I promise. Warning there is naughty words, people (all of age) doing some naughty things, and well someone being hurt a lot

Well here is the first part and thanks to Miguel51 for reading this bit, I hope I have changed Dean enough to make him sound less whiny.

* * *

"Okay, so you're saying that the Pistons were unlucky when they lost to the Knicks?" a man asked, as he took off his hard hat to wipe his brow.

"Damn straight I am," came the reply from the large guy, over by the pneumatic drill.

"Dude, did you watch the same game we did?" another member of the crew asked.

"Sure I did!" the man protested before he turned his head to the guy sitting in corner with a sketching pad. "Hey Deano, gimme a hand here, tell these guys to blow it out their asses – it would've been a cake walk for the Pistons on Sunday if Crawford hadn't shown up for the Knicks."

He looked up from his pad for a moment, "You told me to take a break, Frank."

"Come on, give your old buddy Frank a hand here, kid," Came the reply.

"Yeah, Dean, get off the fence," one of the construction crew yelled. "Tell him the Pistons suck!"

"I've always been more into hockey," Dean Forester said as he turned his attention back to his note pad.

"Hockey? That isn't a game," Frank exclaimed. "Just a bunch of in-the-closet wannabe Canadians with sticks who get paid to prance around on the ice. If they didn't have all that protective equipment on, you'd see that they're all in sequin jumpsuits."

"Don't go there, Frank," Dean said slowly.

"Yeah, don't go there, Frank," one of the guys echoed. "Because the NBA is full of overpriced idiots."

"I'm not saying it isn't," Frank retorted.

"So you're finally admitting that Allen Iverson wasn't worth the money, then?" Dean asked, causing Frank to throw him a dirty look before putting down his tools and taking a step over to him, pulling the pad out of his hand.

"What are you doing, kid?" Frank questioned. Dean raised an eyebrow at the burly construction worker as he looked at the rough sketches.

"Can I have that back?" Dean asked. "The design is shit, anyways."

Frank sighed as he held out the pad to Dean, "Kid, what've I been telling you? Cut down your hours in this hell hole, work out a new schedule for those night classes you been taking, and go and do that shit _properly_."

"Thanks," Dean responded, taking hold of the outstretched pad, though Frank held fast to his end. "But I'm happy where I am right now."

"No wonder that wife of yours left you!" one of the crew called out. "Don't know when you have a good thing to move on to."

"Thought you said that she caught him with his pants down with the ex?" another crew member interjected.

"That's what I mean, the ex he went out with in high school. Deano here is too busy living in the past to see what's right in front of him." The first crew member replied. "Passed up little Veronica in the catering truck last week because he had broken up with that receptionist a month ago, and you know how long Veronica has been putting that extra baloney in his lunch sub just to get his attention."

"Seriously, Veronica? Athletics scholarship Veronica? _'Are those real or is that a really good push up bra under that sweatshirt, and that perky little ass that you want to take a bite out of_' Veronica? The '_Even though my father will show you why he got that award for best butcher on the East side, not to mention that mega steroid-addict brother I've got, I'd damn well make it worth your while, because I'm up for anything_' Veronica?" Frank asked, before looking at the kid in front of him.

"You didn't turn that sweet piece of ass down, did you, kid?" Frank asked Dean.

"If I'm a kid Frank, then she's in kindergarten," Dean replied, drawing himself up to his full height to face him.

"No way can you call Veronica a kid, not with the way she fills out that sweater," one of the guys said jokingly.

"You been looking?" Dean asked.

"She's a junior in college; it's only the touching part that's illegal now, Dean," came the sarcastic reply. "And with that girl, I think we're all in agreement that the _real_ crime would be not to appreciate Mama Minola's fine, fine work. Even if that poor child is under the misguided impression that if she stuffs you full of sausage meat, you'd be willing to return the favor."

Dean blushed as Frank shook his head. "Kid, why the hell did you turn down Veronica? It wasn't like you were serious about the last one you went with. Hell, not that it would be serious about Veronica either – girl's been eying you up as a notch on her bedpost before she heads back to college for how long now? Or is it her muscle-headed brother you're interested in?"

"Give me the damn pad," Dean said firmly as the other guys looked, though Frank held on to the pages firmly.

"Dean, I'm saying this as a friend," Frank said sympathetically. "You know what happens when you think you can get away with sticking it in two places, and it's pretty obvious to everyone that you know not to do it again."

"Frank!" Dean protested, but the big guy went on.

"Dean, it's the twenty-first century, you don't need a show everyone that you've taken a suitable 'mourning' period between two bits of fun, especially when you end things the way you do with them," Frank said.

"Frank's right, I'd be willing to be dumped by you, if you treated me half as well as you did the last couple," one of the crew said. "The meal at Andiamo's would be worth putting up with your ass alone."

"Ortiz, you asking me out?" Dean inquired.

"Definitely," Ortiz replied sarcastically. "My mama's always asking me when are me and that nice tall white boy going to set a date. You know she wants to see me settled down with a nice American boy before she dies."

"In your dreams, Ortiz." Dean said mockingly.

"Every night Deano," Ortiz said with a smile, "But only when Angelina and Uma aren't available, and in my head they always are, so unfortunately, you're plum out of luck."

"Right out of luck, am I?" Dean replied.

"You two love birds done?" Frank asked before turning his attention to back to Dean.

"Yeah, we're done," Dean replied. "Don't know why I tell you guys anything; anyways, not everything I do goes back to what happened back then."

"So you've decided that you don't have to pay back every cent your ex-wife's family paid for that wedding, or that she doesn't need alimony anymore?"

Dean looked away from his friend's gaze.

Frank sighed, "Seriously Dean, we've had this talk before. You're a good guy to have on a crew but if you can get out of schlumping it on site, you would be a moron to pass that up. What was it that the new architect said – he knew someone who could help you set up shop with that woodwork crap you do, if you wanted to get serious about it."

"No, he put me in contact with his friends that had a store to sell some of my stuff," Dean replied. "Not to set me up."

"Thought he said it was a gallery?" Ortiz added.

"Did I ask for your opinion? Get back to work!" Frank said to Ortiz, before turning back to Dean.

"It's a store, one of those specialty ones, and it was only a couple of chairs," Dean replied.

"How did they go down?" Frank asked. "They find anyone to buy them?"

Dean nodded, to which Frank asked if the store had wanted any more.

"Yeah, but I haven't had a chance to start them yet," Dean said. "As for anything else…it isn't like the furniture is going to bring in any big money, even if I did set something up."

"You talk like that and it never will. Dean, I know you got bills to pay, but do you want to be freezing your ass off on some second rate construction site for the rest of your life?" Frank asked.

"How exactly do you want me to answer that, Mom?" Dean replied mockingly to which Frank narrowed his gaze.

Frank let go of the pad. He shook his head as he quietly said, "Dean, sometimes I wonder if your parents raised you right when you talk this shit like this. Because when you do, someone seriously needs to kick you up the ass – and if I was your father I would, you know that?"

"Frank," Dean protested.

"No Dean, you're a good kid. You work hard, but if you keep doing what you're doing now, you'll get nowhere. And before you start, I know you been taking those classes, but you don't seem to have done anything with them."

"Frank, it isn't like I haven't tried…"

"And don't go on about you and the bank again, 'cause that ain't going to cut it this time," Frank said firmly. "Shit, I wouldn't mind if you got off you butt and tried to make them give you a crew of your own to run here – you're more than capable of doing that, but you don't, so don't say you are just biding your time just now or try and bring up your cash flow."

"But…"

"No Dean, I don't know who told you that you ain't worth shit, but they're wrong," Frank said. "For Christ sake, you're not five, you don't need to be told this shit. So, you listen to old Frank, because I'm giving you a choice: You're going to get off your ass right now and go tell that architect that you'll make more of those chairs for him, or you do nothing while I go tell Veronica's old man what's been happening to all the baloney on his van, but I'll leave out the part where you turned the girl down. You understand me?"

"What?" Dean asked.

"You heard me," the old construction worker said.

"You're a real bastard, you know that?" Dean snapped.

"Well, as I'm running this crew and you're not, I can be. If you don't like it, quit and find something else to do," Franks said. "So, while you're making your decision; go get us guys' lunch. But, why don't you head to that coffee shop at the end of the block - the one that the suits use. I fancy some of those over-priced biscotti, and besides, you never know who'll be in there," Frank said before turning to the rest of the crew, "Guys? Who wants a mocho, choco, whipped cream frappy thing with sprinkles on top? Deano's buying!"

Dean bit his lip as the rest of the crew agreed, "Frank, I fucking hate you sometimes."

"No you don't, kid," Frank said with a smile as Dean turned to head off site. "It's either that, or you swing by the lunch truck to tell Veronica that you changed your mind about those sub stuffing lessons she was offering you."

Dean stopped and turned to stare at Frank, as the rest of the crew turned to watch him. Frank grinned and waved him on, "Go on kid – you heard me. You got a choice, because if you don't do either, I'm going to talk to her Daddy."

"Frank!" Dean protested.

"Better yet Dean, I think I'll go to tell her daddy anyway so if you're going to do the time, you might as well do the crime!" Frank said. "Not fair that the girl's put all that work in and have you let her go back to school all disappointed."

"I need a new job, and new friends," Dean retorted as the crew started to whoop in agreement with their old crew boss.

* * *

"So what changed your mind?" she called from the other room as he caught his breath.

"Ehm… I had, well…" Dean started to say not to sure what to say.

"Frank, huh?" Veronica asked as stood in the doorway.

"Yeah," Dean said as he looked at the light from his bathroom silhoutted her frame. "Basically told me to stop looking a gift horse in the mouth."

The girl raised an eyebrow. "A gift horse, am I? I don't know if I should thank the man or give him food poisoning now for thinking I was such a sure thing."

"I think he meant that if a girl takes all that trouble to keep giving a guy all that extra baloney, he should at least thank her properly, not that you were a sure thing."

"Is that what you call this?" Veronica said with a smile. "A way of thanking me? I wonder what you'd have done if I'd given you extra pickles as well?"

Dean smiled. "Well, actually I was thinking that tonight we'd just have been getting dinner and maybe have caught a movie, to be honest."

"I'm not against pizza," she replied. "As for the movie, who wants to sit in a dark theater for two hours, when we can get right down to business?"

"Business?" Dean questioned.

"Oh, I'm all about getting down to business, Mr. Forester," Veronica said before smirking. ",Are you 'up' for another round of negotiations? But hey, if you want to go spend some time in a large dark room with an audience, I'm sure I can risk it, though as you know, I'm not exactly a quiet one."

"V…"

"I'm serious," she said as she made a move to pick up her clothes. "Could be fun, though if we get thrown out, we'll never live it down when the guys at work find out, not to mention my Dad or my brother."

Dean sat up swallowing. "Danny? Yeah, that would take all the fun out of this."

Veronica smiled at the expression on his face, "Hey, Dean, before you say a word, I'm not expecting anything from you, and even if I was, I'm not going to threaten you with my family to get it. I'm all about the fun, as I'm going back to college in about a week, so don't worry about me making this more than it is – not that it means that I'm I slut."

"V, I never thought that."

"I know, but I thought I'd get it out in the open, anyway. We're both adults here and I'm being honest, this to me is few days' fun. I don't believe in the romantic, lets pretend it's forever crap," Veronica said. "Not at my age."

"Okay," Dean replied.

"And for the record, I'm actually quite picky, you know. I like to do my homework."

"Homework?" Dean questioned.

"Yeah, you think I was giving you the best cold cuts purely because of that cute butt, broad shoulders and the fact that you can carry a conversation?"

"Really?"

"It was that tight white tee shirt you were wearing the first week in July that really did it for me," she said with a smile causing him to chuckle. "And it wasn't just me that noticed. The girls in the office block next to the site, as well as A.J in payroll weren't complaining when they came down to use the lunch truck."

Dean blushed, "I have no idea how I feel about that."

"You should be flattered. Well as flattered as I am when you guys discuss how 'nice' my sweater looks."

"I'm…."

"Hey, it's a construction site, Dean. You guys talk about 'stuff', we girls and A.J talk about 'stuff,_'_ we all know where the line is," she said with a big grin on her face. "Helps when you want to find things out; like, I know you've been on site for a while and had only two sick days. You've had a couple of side jobs and you don't seem to sleep around, though you don't seem to do anything close to what could be considered long term either, which as I was saying, I am not going to complain about," Veronica explained. "I even know you have a kid sister at high school back in a little town in Connecticut."

"Have you been stalking me?"

"Kind of, though I did stop short from breaking into your doctor's office to sneak a peak at your medical records."

"What?"

"I like to do my research about my 'work out' partners. Need to know you're up to the job, though watching you move equipment around on site helped with that," she said.

"I'm a work out partner?" Dean said. "And I thought you were insulted about being considered a sure thing."

Veronica smiled, "I haven't exactly been subtle about what I want to do to you this summer, Dean. Though, took you long enough to get the message, even if Frank was involved, considering that I'm leaving in a couple of days. I was beginning to think that I would have to really use the gym when I got back to school."

Dean smirked. "So, I'm really just a work out for you."

"Oh god yes!" she said emphatically. "A six foot four inch gorgeous workout topped off with an ass I could watch all day."

"V, I think you are exactly what the doctor ordered," Dean said as he let out a hearty laugh.

She giggled as she dropped the bundle in her hands before moving toward him. "Oh yes, I am. And Mr. Forester? I think that it's time for you to take your medicine."

* * *

Dean yawned as he slowly trucked into work a little later than normal. As he went and got his tools to start working, he noticed the way that the rest of the guys on the crew had stopped to stare at him causing him to grimaced. "Right, right, right. Go on, get it over with," he snapped.

"Over with what?" one of the crew asked.

"You know what." Dean replied.

"Okay, but that depends if you've successfully filled Veronica's sandwich," another man asked. "So did you?"

Dean stopped and looked at the men in front of him, his gaze serious. "I am not discussing this."

"So you did?" Ortiz asked, grinning.

"I said, I am not talking about this." Dean repeated, turning his attention back to his work.

"You heard the guy – he's not talking about it," Ortiz said to the guys on the crew. "Deano here is being a gentleman."

"Screw you, Ortiz!" Dean retorted.

"We back in your dreams again?" Ortiz snarked.

"Hey guys, you're not getting paid to talk about the kid's sex life, just because none of you have gotten any in so long and you need to get your kicks. Though it's nice to know he can get off his lazy ass when he has the motivation," Frank said interrupting. "Get back to work. This block ain't going to build itself."

"Sure Frank," Dean said, and began to actually do the job he was being paid for.

* * *

"You sure that's him?" a man in the plaid shirt asked his companion.

The other man nodded, "Yep."

"Sam Winchester working construction?" the first man asked. "His brother? Yeah, I can see him getting a job on a work crew, but Sam? Wouldn't that be beneath the Ivy League educated demon boy?"

"John Winchester wasn't one to teach either his boys to pass up a lead just because it meant they'd have to get their hands dirty. Sammy could have swung it with his brother that way," the second man replied. "Using his brother's name, too, though the Forester is a new one for the Winchester boys – can't think of where they came up with that alias. Ain't no rock band with a Forester in it that I can think of."

"But there isn't any connection to that site and the Sigbin," the first man said. "Unless we missed something?"

"Who knows," the second man replied. "If that's the only reason the Winchester boys are in town – Sam could be using the case as cover, distracting his brother. Heard from Walker and Kubrick that he was a tricky bastard."

"You saying that there's something on that site that Sam doesn't want his brother to know about?"

"Could be, kid spent twenty minutes talking to the architect yesterday. Went out of his way to find the guy, too. All the way down to that coffee shop, nice and secluded; made sure the guys in the crew he's working with weren't around to hear their little chat. So, whatever is happening at that site, case or not, he's sure being careful to keep it secret." the second man replied.

"Well, sure sucks for him that we came across the same newspaper article. But then again, God does work in mysterious ways, doesn't he," the first man said with a smile.

"So what does the man upstairs want us to do?"

"We sit here and watch Sam until we work out what he's doing."

* * *

Sam Winchester walked into the crowded sports bar, tired and somewhat pissed off after spending half his afternoon stuck in the records office of the local police station. Though his irritation managed to get kicked up a few notches when he found out exactly why his brother had given up for the day.

"You enjoying yourself?" Sam asked as Dean preceded to hand him a beer.

"Dude, it had to be done. It wouldn't have been fair to come here to Michigan, to this city, and not actually take the final step. I owe it to her."

Sam sighed, "It's a car, Dean."

"Don't you talk about my baby like that, not here – not in Detroit," Dean retorted. "Not in her spiritual home. So what if I took her on a tour of the old GM factory where she was born, just to see the old place? It wasn't like I took the whole day – still focused on the job, Sammy."

"Really? The factory where your car was 'born'?" Sam said sarcastically, loosening his tie before taking a drink of his beer. Behind them, a group of girls began to get rowdy.

"Okay, so maybe it just an open lot now. But I'm pretty sure it was the spot where she and the rest of her brothers and sisters came off the line, back in '67."

"Yeah right," Sam said as he took a drink. "And tomorrow are you going to head to Wisconsin so you can be sure you took it to the right one? Because I heard they had a big plant down there too."

He thought for a second. "Maybe we could do that if we ever go past that way?"

"Yeah, Dean, glad to see you're so focused. Next you'll be organizing a family reunion for it?"

"Don't be like that; it's not like I didn't go round all the witnesses again, first. Nothing new though," Dean said. "So what you find out?"

"Not much, pattern seems to be what we expected," Sam said glancing over his shoulder at the small crowd causing so much noise. "Can we talk somewhere else?"

"Dude, you know this place has the best bacon cheeseburgers in a five block radius of the motel."

"How could I forget, you've been making us come in here every day since we got here," Sam said with a scratch of his head as his brother glared at him. "Okay, but can we find a booth to do this?"

"Don't know if there's a free one," Dean said, getting up from his bar stool.

"I am _so_ going to miss this," the drunk girl said as she slapped Sam's behind, causing him to shoot up straight.

"Sorry," her friend said to the now-embarrassed Sam, while the drunken girl continued going on about the things she would miss once she was back at college.

"And see, he looks good in a suit too," the girl said as her friends started to bustle her out of the bar.

"Veronica, you've had enough," one of the girls said as she pushed her friend towards the door, though Veronica did seem to stall them for a second, turning around, "Hey Dean, if you're still around when I'm back for break, call me so we can schedule a proper workout if you get my meaning!"

"I really like this place," Dean said with a grin, before he saw the expression on his brother's face. "What, the motor city is a friendly place!"

Sam just shook his head, causing his brother to protest in his own behalf, "What, you don't think she was my type?"

"She had a pulse, didn't she?" Sam retorted.

"Or do you want to go try and hit that, seeing it appears that she's going to miss your ass," Dean said with a smile, grabbing his jacket after taking in the look on Sam's face, "Fine, prude, we'll go somewhere else to eat."

* * *

For some reason, working with his hands always made Dean feel good. It was clean, easy and focused. Construction, mechanics or carpentry, the work just seemed to make all of his mistakes, his failings, melt away.

Beginning, middle, end – it was simple, and if something did not work the right way, or did not work at all, you stopped and fixed it, or started over. It was an aspect of Dean's life in which he could take delight in; taking his time while he learnt the intricacies hidden within the work, because there were no mixed messages or recriminations, no emotions or regrets.

In this small rented lockup, he could set his own rules to go by; with the worst consequence he would ever have to face being a trip to the emergency room for a stitch or two, from a slipped tool. Not like other things in his life, things from the past that still came back to bite him in the ass. Things like that reminded him that it was better to keep things light and short, not get too invested – have some fun before letting them down easy. Make them feel like the most important thing in the world, before they found out that they were competing against the open wound of a memory; a memory of something that, in reality, didn't exist, except in the broken dreams of a stupid kid who never knew when to just let_ go_.

But the person who that kid had become could ignore that; ignore that and the rest of the world in those four rented walls. Ignore his mother when she told him that it was okay that he hadn't been home for the Fourth of July as long as he made it back for Thanksgiving, ignore the hope in her voice when she said she wouldn't even mind if when he came home, he brought a 'friend' with him.

He could even ignore the fact that he knew Frank was right, that he needed to move on with his life and, if he didn't do something soon, he would find himself busting his ass in a construction crew, age forty-five and doing business courses.

Though for the first time in years, he understood what he wanted to do and how he wanted to do it. He liked fixing old things or building them in old fashioned ways, from cars when he was a kid, to helping Tom remodel houses when he was older.

He liked getting his hands dirty, not because he could pick up the skills easily, but because he liked the thinking on the spot, adapting to the situation. He liked having the satisfaction of knowing that his sweat, and in some cases blood, had gone into the finished article. He liked assembling things from almost scratch by hand, watching people use what he had created or brought back to life.

Why he could not have gotten to that revelation back then, he'd never know, but for some reason he had never felt that it was something that he should aspire to. He never felt good enough, confident enough, to say that he actually liked being the guy on the ground, the guy who got his hands dirty when they took plans apart to actually make them work as well as keeping the things in budget, while the guy in the suit took all the credit.

Not that he did not like thinking about how things should slot together, of sitting in front of a drafting table coming up with ideas, just like the suits would. It was just he knew he would never find any real enjoyment in doing it on a grander scale than helping to put an old house back together in the spirit that the original suit intended. But somehow, back when he was a kid, something about making a living out of it, admitting jobs with Tom wasn't just him earning extra cash or a stop gap until something better came along, never seemed quite… right.

Not that he could blame Rory for it; it was just compared to her dreams, his always, well seemed so small, so…unimportant. Not like the guys who had tumbled out of the pool house after her that night, who could promise her the world and deliver it in spades, or like Jess, who had found a way to make his mark. Jess, who had been filled with attitude and anger back then.

Not that Dean grudged the guy his success, especially as it was in a world that Dean had little interest in, other than being the occasional end consumer.

If anything, that was the only thing he could possibly link to his time with her. His passing appreciation of Burroughs, Heller and Thompson all dwindling in the face of her love of Tolstoy, James, Melville, and her mental catalog of obscure authors he had never heard of. His choices always seeming lighter, less worthy than those she suggested to him in their time together.

He knew he could have spoken up more when he said that those literary heroes she kept putting in his path left him cold, instead of just throwing them and their tales into the bottom of his hockey bag, and hoped she didn't notice that they were untouched when he handed them back. He could have pointed out the obvious when she or her mother suggested Willy Wonka or Pippi Longstocking for the hundredth time, when all he wanted was to watch 2001, Body Snatchers or Rosemary's Baby, rather than sitting in silence when she told him how the books that they were based on were so much better.

He knew he could have explained better about why, unlike Jess, he couldn't share Rory's ability to actually remain interested in browsing the shelves of Andrew's small book store for up to five hours at a time. He could have spoken up and made her actually realize that it wasn't just because he didn't share her interest in the minutiae of the literary world that made him want to go, but it was mostly because unlike her, he couldn't curl up on Andrew's floor to work his way through some random book that was interesting enough to read, but not interesting enough to buy. When she did it, Andrew thought it was cute – when Dean had attempted it, his size had lead to discussions about fire code violations.

But that was then, and he was no longer in Stars Hollow. Where he hadn't really gotten the message and accepted things until it was too late.

Where he had tried to become one of those men in breeches from those books she had passed on to him, just to be close to the one who made his chest tighten and his mouth go dry with a single smile. Where he has ended up tearing his life apart, while the nice girl who wanted nothing but to try and please, who didn't deserve the betrayal, waited for him at home.

Where the only opportunities to do anything close to what he wanted job-wise was working with Tom, as there wasn't enough work in the town to set up competition, or even a partnership. Not that he would have considered the competition part – Tom had always been straight with him.

This was Detroit. This was a place where working on a side project in a small rented lock up for some extra cash, like two chairs to sell in a store, was not a life-shattering event. Nor did it make him feel like a failure because the bank had told him that, due to the current countrywide banking situation, his financial commitments and his lack of business experience it would be highly unlikely that he'd qualify for a small business loan.

Here it was what it was; no big hidden meanings, except perhaps that his timing has always sucked. They were not a metaphor about how capable he was; even if the guys did say they were good, because this was Detroit. Where no-one cared that he had found himself falling into a comfortable rut, going through the motions day after day on a construction crew as he fulfilled his obligations. But most importantly, no-one here cared that some days he felt like some pathetic sick stalking asshole.

Because even years later, even though he hadn't sought her out since the night he had walked away to let her fly into the world were she belonged, sometimes he would find his nights were filled with dreams of delicate sparkling crystal blue eyes hooded under long lashes, while the sounds of Candy man could be heard drifting down the streets of a small picture perfect town.

No, this was a place where what he was doing now was only a sideline that he found fun and kept his hands occupied, and if they sold, could pay Lindsay and her folks for the next few months. And if he was real lucky, this would help him grow a reputation that would let him possibly set up something on his own when he was ready, when he had finally finished paying what he owed and got some spare cash together, when the economy upturned enough for the bank or some magical investor to take a risk on him, even though he had no idea when that would be.

* * *

"What, no jerky?" the man asked as he looked into the bag.

"No," came the reply as the car door shut. "Any idea what he's doing in there?"

"Nope," the first hunter said as he took out some snacks. "Could be anything."

"Any idea where his brother is?"

"From what I know about Dean Winchester, probably with a couple of hookers about now."

An eyebrow was raised. "You can't be sure of that."

"What do you expect from the 'normal' one of John Winchester's boys? Him to go home at night to apple pie?"

"No," came the resigned reply from the second hunter. "But you don't know that he pays."

"Even if Dean says that he don't believe the stories about his brother, he couldn't be foolish enough to risk squirreling someone away. He must know that if he's wrong about his sainted Sam, that whoever he took up with would be one of the first in the firing line." The first hunter said. "Better him picking up some whore in a bar than someone nice and clean getting hurt when Sam finally decides he doesn't like any competition for his brother's attention."

"Even if he does pay for it, it could just be the hunt, you know. Not the easiest way to live." The second hunter said mournfully as he sipped a cup of coffee.

"No, it isn't," the first hunter said. "But the hunt ain't no excuse for picking up a girl for only one thing even if he doesn't pay."

"So if he pays for it because somehow he's frightened of his brother, that's alright, but if Dean picks up someone for one night because he won't be in town for too long, that isn't?" the second man asked only to be greeted by a stony silence.

He sighed, "You're a judgmental bastard, you know."

"I know it ain't black and white, but wrong is wrong, just things like Sam Winchester are wronger than others," came the firm response. "And for all we know he's conjuring up something even wronger in that lockup."

* * *

"Everything I can find says we're dealing with only one whatever the hell you said it was," Dean Winchester said. "What do you think?"

"Yeah, one," Sam replied as he studied the papers in front of him. "And it's Filipino in origin."

"Yeah, you said, but what the fuck is a Sig…whatever the hell it is, doing in Detroit?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged, "How would I know? Someone brought it back from vacation?"

"They should really train those customs guys better," Dean joked.

"Yeah," Sam replied as he went back to the papers in front of him.

Dean sighed. "And here I thought that we had something we could really sink our teeth into."

"Oh, Dude, that is bad," Sam groaned, looking up from the gory photograph he had been studying.

Dean grinned. "I was just saying."

"One or not, we've got work to do, so will you knock it off with the bad puns and focus?"

Dean pouted as he picked up his gun and coat to head towards the door, "Fine, but they know what they say – All work and no play makes Jack?"

"Yeah, I know, ending up chasing Shelley Duvall round an old hotel with an axe."

* * *

"I got here as soon as I could, what do you mean my place got turned over?" Dean Forester asked the caretaker as he ran into the site.

The small man stuck his hands into his pockets as he explained that the unit where his tools and work were being stored had been visited in the night and, although a few of the other units had been 'visited' only the one rented by D. Forester seemed to have warranted special attention.

"And what did the cops say?" Dean asked.

The man coughed. "I…well; nothing was really damaged as far as I could tell."

"That you can tell?"

"Yeah, they could have got spooked by the alarm, or by the dog finally waking up in the yard; I thought that since yours was the one that was really broken into, that you should come down in case there was something you wanted to, well you know? I run a clean place; I don't need the cops poking their noses into my business."

"Call the cops, I'm not hiding anything," Dean said, sighing.

* * *

"You sure there wasn't anything there?" the first hunter asked his friend.

The small man shook his head, "No, just tools and wood."

"He's building something?"

"Yeah, but unless Pottery Barn is branching out, I can't think of anything Demonic about dining furniture."

"Whatever the hell he's been doing, can't cover it from his brother for much longer."

"Why?" the second hunter asked.

"Well, while you were enjoying yourself looking through storage units, saw Big Brother close the case - blew the damn thing's head clean off."

The second hunter took a breath, "If we're serious about doing this, we got to do it soon."

The first hunter smiled. "Maybe you finally getting to the same page was all the Lord was waiting for."

"Cut the bullshit," the second hunter said. "If we do this, we do it quick."

"Not that I'm not in agreement about doing this as quickly as possible, but does it matter how we do this? Or is it that you just don't want to piss the son of a bitch off?"

"Hell, his brother maybe full of it, but I never heard a word saying he fails to do what needs to be done except when it comes to Sam – he don't deserve to have this dragged out more than it needs to be."

"So you really need to do this for Dean?" the first hunter asked.

"No, what I'm saying is that we don't drag this out. Best for all of us if we just get it over with."

"We do this and it's never going to be over," the first hunter said. "Dean Winchester is going to be on our tail the second his brother hits the floor, he's never going to stop until either we or him is in the ground, and even then we ain't going to be safe from him."

* * *

"Dean, go get that arm checked!" Sam yelled throwing a towel in his brother's direction.

"It isn't that bad," came the reply before all Sam could hear was a muted hiss coming from the other side of the room.

"Sure it is, it's perfectly fine. That's why you look like you're about to pass out when you poke the damn thing," Sam said smugly.

"Shut up."

"Go get it check and remember to get a damn tetanus shot, will you?"

"Excuse me?" Dean replied.

"When did you last get one?" Sam asked.

Dean thought for a moment.

"Exactly, go get one. You backed up on a rusty post."

"Come on, does it really matter? I got how long left?"

"Dean!"

"Right, okay Mom, I'll go get my arm checked out," Dean retorted.

"Go get the damn shot, you said you were going to the hospital anyway. It's not like you'll have to swing out of your way," Sam said.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, but that was because I told that kid I would let her know when it was done."

"She's four, Dude," Sam said. "She wouldn't hold it against you if you didn't keep that promise."

"I told the kid I'd get the thing that killed her dog and we did, so I'm going to let her know it's over. Least I can do for the kid after we made her bring all that shit back up. She was almost catatonic as it was when we left her."

"It killed her neighbor, Dean."

"She didn't see it eat Mrs. Faber. Pickles, she saw being torn apart," Dean pointed out. "You start packing up here and I'll be back in a couple of hours."

"You know, we could stay here a couple of days, have a vacation," Sam said. "You could take the car…"

"Sam, got a time schedule to keep, I got more things to do than sit on my butt in Detroit," Dean said as he grabbed his coat.

* * *

The line of lights moved so quickly, _whoosh, whoosh, whoosh_ they went as they moved passed his head.

No, he was moving under them, that was what the thunk sound was, wheels moving over old worn linoleum, but it was so bright and all he could focus on was them as he couldn't move his head.

But he hadn't hit his head, had he? He heard voices, lots of voices.

"Kid, you stay with us, okay?" someone was calling to him.

Frank, he thought it was Frank, or was it Ortiz? No, it was Ortiz, because he and Ortiz had gone to the seven eleven to pick up some groceries. Ortiz had to get milk and bread and canned fruit for the some desert his mother was…God, this was a bad day, first his workshop got broken into and then Ortiz was screaming for the cops as he was on lying on the ground.

All of it was a blur and now he was here; he remembered lying there, and it had been wet – shit, had he peed himself or worse? …No, it was lower down, it was his leg that was wet and ….Oh my _God_ that hurt! What the hell was happening to his leg? What the fuck were they doing to his leg?

He was being held down now, he couldn't see what was going on, but he could see the needle coming towards him, "No! No!"

"It's okay," the hand behind the needle said. "We're going to have to up the pain killers you were given in the ambulance."

"Dean, it's okay kid," Ortiz yelled from somewhere else, "You stay strong, okay? It's only your leg."

* * *

"You missed!"

"Really Sherlock? I didn't notice that!" the first hunter yelled.

"He is going to come after us, both of them will."

"He didn't see our faces," the first hunter said.

The second hunter sighed, "Like that matters."

"He got taken away in an ambulance."

"So what? We hope that some overworked ER intern does the job for us? We shot him in the leg," the second hunter said.

"Well, I said that a drive by was going to be risky. But you wouldn't listen, you insisted."

"He'd have known what we were going to do if we had come at him straight."

"I got no doubt of that," the first hunter said. "But we just missed our chance because you got no stomach for dealing with the consequences when his brother to catch up with us."

"No, I'm not but…"

"Are you changing your mind on this?" the first man asked curtly cutting the second man off.

The second hunter sighed, "No. Sometimes things have to be sacrificed for the greater good."

"Nice to see we're on the page," the first hunter retorted. "We've started this, so now we finish it – and we make sure it's done right."

* * *

It was nice, a nice dream. He was seventeen again, sitting in his room, reading a book, and there she was. Sitting in his window, begging him to take her back because, even though he had been right about her crush on Jess, she knew that it was not the same as what they had. That is was not as real, that what she and Jess had between them was just a schoolgirl thing, and that she did not want to throw away what she shared with him, and that if there was no hope left for them, she would move to the other side of the world if he wanted her too.

That she would leave him alone, and not make him see her face everywhere he went. She would not demand to be friends, to expect him to hang on her every word, let him move on from whatever hurt he had, let any success he had not involve her voice being in the back of his head telling him that _'Dean you __**are**__ smart and you can do anything __**you **_**want**_._'

It was a stupid dream and it was not real, but it was nice and warm and – wow, were those pink butterflies flying over his head? They were making nice humming sounds, no wait, they weren't, they were singing, trying to drown out that annoying sound in the background.

"_SAMMY! SAMMY! Can you hear me?" _

"_Sammy! What the fuck happened? Are you okay? Sammy, who did this? Can you talk? What did the quacks shoot you up with?" _

No, no, no, the pink butterflies were going away, he didn't want that, he wanted them to stay!

All the Yale boys were laughing now, and Luke in that stupid back-to-front cap of his was the judge who was handing down his sentence; about how he was never allowed to move on, that he had to pay Lindsay and her family back for all eternity, for the wedding he put them through. Lorelai was standing in the corner, pregnant with the bop-it in her hands, as Luke laughed and told Dean that he had his Gilmore, and that Dean was not good enough for anything – no life, no future away from Stars Hollow because it was in his blood, and he would never get away. That every time he set foot over the county line to see his folks, Taylor would be there to make sure he put on that stupid apron, before handcuffing him to the register.

How there would be a parade with balloons, with him being be lead out so the rest of the town could throw rotten fruit at his head as Kirk danced and danced. How his failures would be on banners posted around the square, a failed husband, an adulterer, a college dropout – that he should consider himself lucky that he was more than one step away from a being a bum working from pay check to pay check, too unsure and scared to figure out where the hell he was going.

He tried to explain that he was trying, that he had been too young back then; he knew he had made mistakes, but he was trying to fulfill his responsibilities, to make amends. He was paying Lindsay back, he was trying to move forward, but it was just tough going right now. That he finally understood why he and Rory could never be. That he knew that what that last time around had really been about; he'd been trying to hang on to what Rory represented as much as her, that first real love, the innocence, the hope, the acceptance. Having the ability to somehow gain respect by just being with her, her ability to not let the rest of reality get in the way, the way she made it all seem so easy.

He told them that he knew that Lindsey hadn't deserved any of it, that she had just been a victim in it all, that he should have been stronger and not let it happen. That he knew he should never have asked Lindsey to marry him, and definitely not to prove to her and to himself that he loved her after he had gotten into a fight at a party because his ex girlfriend had been upset.

But all that did was cause them to laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh.

But the pink butterflies, the pink butterflies that fluttered and hovered.

"_Come on, stop doing that." _

No, he almost caught one; no, don't push his hands away.

"_We got to get out of here, before the cops come and Jesus, Sammy, can you walk at all? Don't worry, I'll get a chair, and you, you just be okay, alright?" _


	2. Chapter 2

Hello there, next chapter.

This is where Dean Forester meets Dean Winchester. Hope it isn't too confusing for people the way I've done it, but let me know if it is.

* * *

He could hear the road, yes the road, he was curled up in the back seat of a car and the road was full of pot holes. Christ, the suspension on this thing needed look at.

The light was grey, oh shit! His leg hurt like hell and where were his clothes? What the hell was he doing in a hospital gown? He was in a car in a hospital gown his leg hurt, his head, well it wasn't all there but the butterflies were gone.

"Sammy, you awake?" came the voice in the front seat to all Dean could do was groan in response.

"Jesus, what happened? I leave you alone for, what five minutes and then I find you in the ER."

"Wha...?"

"Okay Dude. It's okay," a hand reached over to the back seat to pat him. "I get it, you rest and you can give me the low down when you sleep that shit off bro. Lucky, I found you before they cathed you because I'm not taking one of those things out of you."

Dean started to feel the panic rising as who ever it was continued to drive. He started to kick wildly at the blankets covering him which caused the driver to start to slow down.

"Sammy, Sammy, calm down, you're safe, you got to calm down!" the voice said to him as Dean started to flail his arms.

"Let go, le... go," was all Dean could manage as a hand reached over to him to calm him down as he righted himself.

"Sammy, it's okay, you're safe. I promise not going to let anyone hurt you. I'm going to watch your back while I can bro, you got my word. Remember just like when we were kids - big bro Dean watching your back Sammy."

"No Sammy, I'm De…, I'm Dean," was all that he could manage to say which seemed to cause the man in the front to laugh.

"Sure you are; you can be Dean."

"Stop laugh, I'm Dean, I'm Dean," Dean said finding the handle. Then pain, lots of pain as he tumbled over and over and over again and the last words he would ever hear would be the guy in the front seat screaming 'SAMMY!'

* * *

"Are you sure that he didn't just discharge himself?" the hunter asked the nurse as he posed as a detective.

"Definitely not, we had to give him enough pain killers to knock out an elephant; only way for us to be safe."

"Excuse me?" the first hunter asked.

"The guy was agitated even in the ambulance, which is fair enough considering he just got shot and all he seemed to have done was walk into a store," the nurse explained. "I'm not saying that the guy was dangerous, well ordinarily I'm sure he was a nice guy, but he was scared and in extreme pain, only way for the staff here to be sure they'd be safe when treating him in that state is to be sure he wasn't conscious."

"So you knocked him out and restrained him?"

"It isn't exactly a policy we are proud of, but we are under funded here, Even with all the gun shot wounds and gang banging that happens and you guys know that," the nurse said to the man she thought was a police officer. "Yes, we knocked Mr. Forester out to let us pull the bullet out of his leg. He's a big guy and built; the attending was half his size and the only help she had was two nurses, one of which is due to go on maternity next month."

"Right, and the bullet wound was the only problem."

"Yes, we where sorting out the bullet wound and there was no head trauma. We just upped his pain meds and he was stable, resps and reflexes normal, pupils responsive; he was to be sent for a scan as soon as we could, just a precaution."

"A precaution to stop him suing your ass when he woke up," the first hunter said as he pretended to note it down.

"Doesn't matter, that man was so far out of it, no way in hell he could have walk out of here on his own."

The hunter sighed. "Yeah, no way in hell."

"Excuse us," the second hunter said to the medic as he pulled his colleague to one side.

"What?"

"We've got a problem," the second hunter said. "The friend says he's known 'Dean Forester' for a while, worked with him almost everyday for about a year."

"That isn't possible; he's got to be wrong."

"Guy's just a guy, freaked out that his friend is missing after he got shot. Don't think he's making it up," the second hunter said. "But on a good note, got Mr. Forester's effects including his wallet and his keys."

The first hunter smiled, "So after we take a quick look at the CCTV footage, we make a little visit."

"And all before the real cops show up."

"You said it."

* * *

"Come on Sammy, don't do this too me," Dean Winchester said as he dragged the half comatosed body onto the bed of the motel, "You aren't supposed to do this; it's me that is supposed to become the walking dog chow."

He looked at the blooded form in front of him.

"Come on, say something; talk to me. Wake the fuck up for Christ sake!" Dean yelled going for the improvised first aid kit he and his brother kept, taking out the small torch to shine it in the eyes of the man lying on his bed.

A hand came up to try and swat the bright light away.

"Oh thank fuck. You are in there," Dean said relieved, moving to cover the body in a blanket which eliciting a moan from the man who had woken up enough that he was able to attempt to push away from him at that point.

"Dude, it's okay. You rest, but I need to stay awake for me okay, just stay awake for a little while and I'll clean you up." Dean said as he picked up some cotton and the hydrogen peroxide.

"Dean? What the hell are you doing?"

"In a minute Sammy, I just got to …." Dean turned, his brother standing in the doorway of the motel. He did a quick double take. "Sam?"

Sam stood open mouthed looking at the guy lying there, he inhaled, "Holy shit!"

* * *

"You find anything?" the second hunter said picking up the family photo which seemed to be taken years before outside a mom and pop store somewhere.

"No, nothing." The first hunter said tearing through the small closet. "Manuals, design sketches, text books. There is nothing here."

The second hunter looked under the bed, pulling out the locked foot locker that was under there, "Hey look at this."

"What?" the first hunter asked as his friend picked the lock.

"Articles, books, papers, personal ones too."

"Anything?" the first hunter asked as he watched his friend who was hesitating over an article.

"Presidential campaign stuff?"

"Presidential?" the first hunter asked.

"Obama campaign," the second hunter asked. "You don't think that, you know?"

"Anything else?"

"Anything else?" the second hunter said his brain still sticking on the idea that the man they were painting as the biggest demonic threat ever faced had a fixation on the campaign of a man who would have his finger on the nuclear button.

"Anything else?" the first hunter said diving into the locker, pulling out bank records and schedules, a couple of books and mementoes of high school.

"There is nothing here."

"But the articles?" the second hunter said as the first man pulled them out of his hand.

"They're all written by the same person and they stop about months ago. There isn't anything here. No artifacts, no books that we'd be interested in. No weapons."

"Then what?" the second hunter asked. "We just shot some poor guy that didn't know anything about this and from the CCTV footage has been taken by Dean Winchester to god knows where."

The first hunter picked up the family picture. "Those demon kids didn't know what was happening until the worse happened."

"Yeah and Sam's the last one standing."

"Are we sure of that?" the first hunter asked. He shook his head, "Nah. We'd have heard something."

"You know John Winchester and his sons were good, made a lot of enemies. Who's to say that some of them didn't want to get pay back by pointing us in Sam's direction instead of the one they want to protect."

"And we fall for it because they look alike?"

"Possible isn't it?"

"Yeah right," the first hunter grudgingly said. "Either way we've still got a problem because one of them has got to be dealt with."

"Yeah, but at least we know they'll be together when we find them and then we see which one is which."

* * *

"Dean, who the hell is this?" Sam said to his brother as he waved an arm at the unconscious man in front of him and his brother.

"I…well…I thought it was you!" Dean exclaimed.

"Me?"

"Look at him Sam, same face, same stupid moles and like someone else in need of a hair cut."

"Dean I don't need …can we get back to the point?"

"Sam, seriously look at him."

"Well he isn't me is he?"

Dean huffed, "What did you expect me to do when I saw him in the ER? He's been shot Sam."

"You don't know why he was shot and the guy could have people looking for him."

"Yeah Sam, tell me something I don't know, now," Dean whispered as the body in the bed slowly started to really try and focus on his surroundings.

"You sure you weren't followed?"

"Who do you think I am?" Dean said.

"I was just asking," Sam replied. "So what now?"

"I don't know!"

"Well you better think of something."

Dean looked over at the guy, before turning to his brother.

Sam shook his head. "Oh no, you kidnapped the guy, you deal with him. Besides him seeing my face will probably make him think he is dead."

"What am I supposed to say, '_hi I thought you were someone_ _else_'?"

"I don't know."

"I grabbed the guy and then he fell out the car."

"He fell out the car?" Sam asked.

"He was trying to get away."

Sam's shoulders fell. "I wonder why Dean, you grabbed him from the ER in a gown. Do you have his clothes?"

Dean pouted. "I didn't…I thought someone had shot you and might have been on the way there to finish the job."

"So now we have a stranger stuck in a motel room that we have to check out of in," Sam checked his watch. "In about twenty minutes, because I told the manager we'd be gone by twelve; with no clothes, unconscious and has recently been shot."

"Thank you for stating the obvious Sam," Dean said. "NOT HELPING!"

Sam took a breath. "Okay, I'll deal with the manager you deal with...do you know his name?"

"He was pretty out of it, so no," Dean said as Sam ran a palm over his face.

"Fine, at least find that out," Sam said as he turned to the door.

"Ehmm, Sam, so the guy doesn't think that he's here for some weird orgy and seeing how you and he are the same build and he seems to share that freaky hormone imbalance you swear you don't have."

"What are you asking?" Sam replied.

""Well, it'd be easier to get him out of here fully dressed and mine would be a couple of inches too short for him, so if you don't mind."

Sam huffed as he went to his bag pulling out some clean clothes before throwing them at his brother.

"Thanks," Dean said. "Ehm, Sam, I don't know if the guy is wearing any…you know."

"You're kidding me!"

"It isn't like I was going to take a look, Dude! He's lucky I made sure he wasn't attached to a bag."

"But, you kidnapped him!"

Dean pointed to the forlorn figure, "But he's…well, he's you."

"I said no."

"Come on, and I know you passed by that Target a couple of days ago," Dean said as his brother seemed to tighten his resolve. Dean tutted. "It ain't my pants that he might be going commando in."

Sam ran a hand over his face before throwing a clean pair of underwear across the room. "You owe me big."

"Yeah, I'll get you a new pair tiny whities."

"I don't usually wear… Why am I having this conversation?" Sam asked.

"Well, what are these then?" Dean asked. "Fashion statement? Or are they a souvenir? Are we due a little talk Sam?"

"They were on sale."

Dean nodded sagely. "On sale, really?"

Sam glared at his brother, "Just get him out of here, will you?"

* * *

Dean slowly started to come too, he could barely open his left eye, his body hurt in places he didn't know it could.

"Good you are awake, you think anything is broken? Don't have trouble breathing?" asked the man whose voice was the same as the one in the car.

"What happened to me?"

"Well," the man scratched his head. "You seemed to have got shot and then, I'm sorry dude, I thought you were someone else and when you tried to tell me that you weren't you sort of…well jumped really out of the car."

The room he was in started to come into focus, the wallpaper was curling and garish, the carpet looked as if he had seen better days and …this wasn't a hospital.

Dean started to squirm, his head throbbed and his body hurt but he wasn't where he was supposed to be.

"Easy Sasquatch, not going to hurt you," the man said calmingly getting up and taking a few steps back. "Got some clothes for you and we'll get you back to the hospital as soon as I can. But what's your name."

Dean blinked for a second. His response coming out as much as a question as a statement. "Dean?"

"Okay, you heard that in the car. What is your name?"

"Dean."

"Great, hit your head hard didn't you."

Dean slowly shook his head before slowly saying his name again.

The man nodded and slowly replied, "Yes; and your name is?"

"Dean!" Dean yelled. "My name is Dean Forester!"

"Forester? Where the hell did…," the man said, taken aback, "Your name is Dean Forester. Holy shit! You got to be kidding me?"

Dean swallowed as the man stared at him only to be disturbed by a rap on the door.

"Dude!" another voice said.

"Coming bro," the man said backing away slowly. "You just stay there, okay. I'll be back in a minute and we'll get you some help okay."

He watched the man leave the room; he could hear voices, the door finally opening a crack to which someone was peering at him, though he couldn't make out a face. The door closed after a few seconds, "No I'm not making this up? Why the hell would I?"

The door opened again and the man came in. "Okay …Dean. We are going to take this slow can you tell me who shot you?"

"Why do you want to know?" Dean said trying to bluff that he better able to defend himself than he currently was.

The man smiled. "Dude, trust me I'm not going to hurt you. If anything you're here because I got well…don't tell anyone but I know I'm a little over protective when it comes to…okay, you don't have to know that, but I'm not going to hurt you."

"Let me go then."

"As soon as you get cleaned up, that is what's going to happen dude. Well, as cleaned up as we can considering the leg."

"Is that what this is about?" Dean asked. "About my leg? I don't know who shot me or shot at the store."

The man looked at him confused as he waited for an answer.

Dean hesitated for a second. "Was it you? Is this what this is about?"

He looked around him again, the room had only one real exit and he was pretty sure that in his current state that he wouldn't be able to get to the door before this guy got in his way and considering the guy moved as if a cocky assuredness it meant one of two things that he could handle himself or at least knew people who could.

Dean started to scramble, trying to get as far away from the guy as possible, "Jesus, you're one of Danny's …oh Christ, I'm going to die in some crap motel all because of some girl. Great, sums up my life doesn't it."

The man looked at him confused.

"Look, I didn't mean that. I do like Veronica but it was just when she first asked me out I kind of said no. Then, well it was only for a few days and she was always heading back to school that was her plan, she is focused on her studies, and I respect that, me and her weren't serious and…not that I didn't like her. I promise that I'll stay away from her when she comes back for break. I'll find somewhere else to work. "

"Excuse me?"

"This isn't about Veronica?"

The man thought for a second, "Ehm, Veronica?"

Dean tensed, "Pretty, sporty, Danny's sister, left to go back to school in Texas a couple of days ago?"

"A College girl?" the man said taking a few more moments to think before a light seemed to go off in his head. "Has a thing for your ass?"

Dean swallowed nervously as the man let out a laugh.

"No, Dude, I didn't shoot you and you being here right now isn't about a Veronica or a Betty or any girl that I know about," the man said with a laugh before turning to the first aid kit and handing to Dean as well as some clothes.

"Look , you aren't going to let me patch you up but from the looks of those hands of yours you look like you know your way around antiseptic and gauze."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't look like you push paper round," the man said noting the welt on the back of Dean's hand that he got a couple of days before.

"Why don't I help you get to the bathroom, so you can get cleaned up as best you can before we get you a cab and you can go wherever – hell what do you say I give you a ride." The man said. "Least I can do."

Dean hesitated, as the man stood there waiting.

The man sighed. "If I don't help you across the room this is going to take a lot longer and I'm guessing that you want to get going as soon as you can."

Dean nodded before he was helped to the small bathroom in the room.

"You need anything you shout."

* * *

"Is it safe to come in?" Sam said as his brother opened the door to him.

"No it isn't," Dean replied sarcastically. "He's in the bathroom so get in here now, before he comes out."

"So any idea who he is yet?"

"I had ten minutes on the computer so the answer to that would be no."

"Didn't you Google him?" Dean asked. "Even I can do that."

Sam glared at his brother, "I'm not a miracle worker. What did you get?"

Dean glanced over his shoulder at the bathroom, "Well unlike you give me another ten minutes and I think I'll be able to get almost anything out of him. Hell, I could probably get him to confess to the kidnapping of the Lindbergh baby."

"What?"

Dean sighed. "Remember that chick that grabbed your ass the other day?"

"How could I forget?"

"You need to get laid," Dean stated causing Sam to huff. "Well she wasn't asking me for a work out and wasn't really commenting on how you looked in a suit when she decided on having a feel."

"Seriously, what has that got to do with this?"

"Can we get passed the 'Whats' and 'Seriouslys', it breaks my flow Dude," Dean said. "Her name was Veronica wasn't it?"

"Think so."

"Well, I wasn't the Dean she wanted to work out with."

Sam looked in the direction of the bathroom. "Oh?"

"Yeah, thinks I'm a friend of the girl's brother trying to warn him off."

"And he thinks that he got shot and is here because of that. What type of family does that girl come from?"

"How the hell do I know?" Dean replied as the bathroom door opened.

Sam looked right into the face of the occupant.

"What the fuck?" Dean Forester exclaimed grabbing a lamp to defend himself.

"Wait a minute this isn't what you think it is. Well, I got no idea what you think this is," Dean Winchester said trying to calm the situation down.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean Forester yelled taking a step forward.

"Dude," Sam said putting up his hands just as Dean Forester got his foot caught in the lamp cable causing him to end up face first in the worn shag pile of the motel carpet that had seen better days.

"Co-coordinated ain't he?" Dean Winchester said to his brother.

* * *

"So what now,"

"With Dean Winchester isn't he," the first hunter said.

"Sam will be there too."

"So we finish this," the first hunter said. "We go all the way."

"But, we can't be sure."

"Yeah, we can't be sure. We do it quick which I thought would make you happy, we make sure this is over."

"None of this makes me happy."

"So we get this done and we do it quick so whichever sorry son of bitch is innocent at least moves on to a better place and don't suffer too much for it."

* * *

"Come on big guy, wake up!" someone was saying as they tapped the side of his face.

"Get off me!" Dean Forester retorted as weakly pushed the hand away.

"So you're awake again?"

The room started to come into focus, the man was still there.

"How did I end up?"

"You fell over your feet, big guy."

"My name is Dean!" Dean said. "Dean Forester, I just work construction I don't have any money and I'm just…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah got that, big guy."

"Dean," Dean said slowly, if he was going out he was going out to his damn name not 'big guy'.

The man scratched his nose, "Yeah sure, you're Dean and that is fine but to be honest it's going to make things more confusing as it is."

"What is that supposed to mean," Dean said noting that there was someone standing just out of view. He craned his neck to look round the man to see the person at the other side of the room.

The blood from his face drained as he saw himself give a little wave. He turned back to the grinning man in front of him.

"That's Sam. Thought you were him."

Dean let out a little whimper in response.

"Okay, you seem to be dealing, Sam's my brother."

"Right – Sammy?"

"Yeah, that is right."

"Pleased to meet you." Sam said to him across the room.

The man started again. "Well I saw you and thought you were him. Just didn't know why he was in the ER."

"Okay, he's here and I'm not him," Dean said slowly and carefully before tentatively trying to move. "I'll be going then. So goodbye, Sam and whoever you are."

The expression on the face of 'Sam' changed to one of concern. "Dean?"

"What?" Dean and the man both said.

"Excuse me?" Dean said.

"Yeah, that is the other confusing thing," the man said before sticking out a hand. "Hi, my name is Dean."

At that point everything started to go dark again.

* * *

He was in a car again, bumping along the road. His head hurt and hi s side felt like it had been attacked by a cheese grater and his leg. Well less said about that the better. At least this time he seemed to be dressed.

"So you're wonderful plan is just to drop him at the ER?"

"Well, the original one was to let him get there on his own. But he doesn't seem to be able to do that right now does he."

"You serious? You kidnap him and your plan now is to push him out the car in the ambulance bay when he is wearing my stuff?"

"Is that what your bellyaching is really about? The fact the guy is in your clothes? Yeah, I can see it now the cops putting out an APB out on all guys who shop in the tall section of Wal-Mart."

Dean groaned, which seemed to cause the car to slow down.

"Dude?" the one who, well, the one called Sam asked. "Are you okay?"

"Where am I?" Dean said as he slowly tried to right himself.

"On the way back out of the twilight zone," the other one, the shorter one said.

Dean grabbed his head.

"Dude, you aren't gong to pass out on us are you?" the shorter one said.

Sam looked at him concerned. "Dean, stop the car."

"I'm not…" Dean said before he remembered as the car came to a halt. "Oh, right."

"Looks like you are really with us this time then," the shorter one said the one who said his name was 'Dean'.

"Where are you taking me?" Dean asked tentatively as both men looked at him.

"Well, seeing how you are awake; anywhere you want to go," the other 'Dean' said.

"We can drop you at the hospital, your place or at a friend's?" Sam said, he seemed concerned, Jesus, he was waiting for a response Christ this was…okay, this wasn't a dream, it wasn't a dream as there were was no music no stupid picture perfect town, no…

"From what you were saying about her big brother, I'm guessing your girlfriend's place is out?" The other 'Dean' said with a grin plastered on his face. Okay the humiliating truth about his love life was there, so possibly could be a dream.

Dean sat there as he watched Sam hit 'Dean' in the arm. "Dude!"

"Just saying so, ehm…Forester? Yeah, Forester. Where can we drop you?"

"Smooth 'Winchester' real smooth," Sam said to the man in the driving seat, who glowered back.

"Great bro, why don't you give him my social security number while you are at it?" 'Dean' Winchester as it would seem, replied causing the man who looked exactly like him to knot his brow. Oh boy, it was the same expression that he remembered his Uncle Nate in Chicago telling him to stop using when he was about eight years old_._ _"Knock it off Dean, looking at someone like they kicked your puppy ain't going to get you what you want. Might work for you now, but won't when your older. At least when your sister uses it she can go batting her eyelashes, as plan B. What are you going to do, hold your breath, throw a tantrum?" _

'Dean' Winchester, as he seemed to be called, sighed, "Okay, I'm an insensitive bastard. I get it. I'll be nice."

"Good!" Sam replied as both men turned to look at him.

"Why don't I just leave now, I'm sure I can get a cab," he said trying the door handle, which seemed to have decided now was a good time not to work.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Dean Winchester said. "Didn't want a repeat of trying to scrape your ass off the street."

"I'm sorry about my brother, we just didn't want you falling out of the car again," Sam said.

"He jumped," Dean Winchester protested to his brother, before turning his attention back to him, "Tell him you jumped."

"Does that matter?" Sam said. "Where can we drop you off?"

"Come on Sam, just ask him, just ask if we can drop him off at his place then you can get your pants back and all three of us put the whole of this behind us? We can hit the road and Forester here can return to whatever he was doing that got him shot."

Okay the pain in his leg had suddenly become more real. "How do I know that it wasn't you that shot me or I got shot because of you two?"

Both men looked at each other, okay that might have not been the smartest thing to ask.

"Highland."

"Excuse me?" Sam asked.

He swallowed, before saying quietly, "Drop me near Highland Park. Please."

"Fine," 'Dean' Winchester said putting turning the engine back on.

"Wait a minute," Dean said trying to reposition himself.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Might be because my leg….but just let me get as comfortable as I can in this thing," he admitted as he settled himself in the middle of the back seat just as the ignition was turned off.

"Excuse me?" 'Dean' Winchester asked very seriously.

"Well maybe it's not your suspension, but your rear shocks. Feels like they could be on the way out, I'm just saying that because from what I can remember from the last time I was in this thing…"

"Okay, I get it," Dean Winchester said before proceeding to mutter under his breath as 'Sam' was obviously trying to hide the fact he was sniggering.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer - I own nothing.

I've tried to make it clear which Dean is which at by identifying which Dean it is at the beginning of each start of dialogue at the mo. If it is confusing with the Deans at any point please let me know and I'll try to make it clearer.

* * *

"So you want us to just sit down here essentially doing nothing except holding our dicks in our hands, while he's probably calling the cops?" Dean Winchester asked his brother who was looking out the window at the run down block.

"Dean, will you just give the guy five minutes?" Sam retorted.

"I said I would get you new underpants if that is the problem, okay?"

Sam sighed, "Fine, I'll just go and….

"No bro, we are not going up there. I don't care if he got shot, we didn't do it, so we don't have to feel guilty about it. Sounds like gang related shit anyways. And I'm not the only one saying it he said no to you helping him up to his place. He's freaked out enough and you trying to be you ain't going to work. Best for all of us if we just put it behind us. "

"I'm not saying it isn't," Sam replied.

"Then what?"

"I don't know, bad feeling I suppose."

"Look finding some guy with your face, I know it is out there, especially for us considering he seems to be just a normal guy but can we just chalk it up to one of those things?" Dean asked.

"And the fact he has your name?"

"What Forester?" Dean asked. "Last time I checked that wasn't on my birth certificate."

"You know what I mean."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked. "This is all just a big freaky coincidence!"

Sam sighed as Dean Forester came down out of the apartment building, before handing over a bag through the car window.

"Thanks." Sam said to which his tall doppelganger gave him a quick nod before he started to try and limp away.

"Hey," Dean Winchester said as both he and his brother got out of the car. "Look, we appreciate that you said you wouldn't call the cops until we left and can understand that you don't want us to know where you live."

"Dean!" Sam said firmly.

"Come on Sam, it isn't like he's not trying to hide where he lives. He came out a different block than he went into and you know fine well that he doesn't live in that one either, probably picked that one 'cause he couldn't walk much further."

"I'm sorry about my brother," Sam apologized.

"I was just going to say that Forester here…the dude here has shown us that he's got cojones considering most people in this situation wouldn't have thought of trying to throw us off his trail like that, let alone come back with your pants so let us just get him back to the hospital and then we hit the interstate," Dean argued.

"It's fine, really," Sam's very pale double said before turning around to very slowly limp away. "I get it, all a stupid mix up on your part. I'll be fine."

"Hey, at least let us make sure you get a cab?" Sam said as he flagged one down.

He winced in pain, before he nodded as Sam held up the car door open.

He took a moment before slowly limping over to the cab and getting in. Sam gave him a reassuring smile before handing the cab driver some money.

"Happy now you got your stuff back?" Dean asked as Sam watched the cab drive off.

"Shut up Dean!" Sam said as his brother locked the car. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Dean said as he took a few steps down the street as Sam just stared at him.

"Come on, you were the one that got his address last time he passed out so lets check the place out."

"Thought you wanted to hit the interstate."

"Well, you were the one that was curious, weren't you? So lets get this over with, so someone doesn't turn into Mr. Pensive and Broody before we hit the city limits, and before the cops that he swore he didn't call do their usual bang up job and respond – I'd say that gives us about an thirty minutes minimum," Dean said as he walked down the street.

* * *

"What the fuck happened?" Frank yelled as he and Ortiz walked through the trauma room door.

"I'm fine Frank, honestly. I'm a little groggy and yeah I'm in pain, but really I'm fine," Dean Forester replied as the nurse tended to him.

"Fine? You look like someone has taken a bat to you and you definitely didn't look like that the last time I saw you," Ortiz said.

"Well you were the one that left me unconscious and on my own," Dean retorted. "But that doesn't matter, I'm okay. Really I'm fine."

"Sure you are sir," said the policeman who was standing there and had been taking notes prior to being interrupted by Dean's friends.

Dean sighed. "Look they let me go even though they must have known I'd be calling you guys the second I could. They said they were heading to the Interstate. That is all I can tell you okay."

"And you say that the man who abducted told you he wasn't involved in the shooting you were originally admitted for?" the policeman asked.

"Yeah and what are you doing about that?" Ortiz asked. "Or the guys who talked to me, when Dean first disappeared who you say you have never heard?"

"That is being looked into, but can we talk about these brothers?"

"What brothers?" Ortiz asked as Dean rubbed his head.

"The people that grabbed me and they said it was a mistake."

"A mistake? Look at you man, you look like they put you through a blender!" Frank said.

"I fell out the car." Dean admitted all the while the policeman was continuing to write things down.

"Fell out of the car?" the policeman said as he raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Yeah, I was so out of it, I fell out the car." Dean said slowly as the policeman began to usher Dean's friends out of the room.

"What is going on?" Dean asked as the policeman came back into the room, with a serious look on his face. "I'm kinda the victim here, you know?"

"Look Mr. Forester, your story…"

"I know it sounds out there, but I don't know why I got shot. I'm not into anything that I know of that would cause anything like this to happen. You can check, I'll answer any question you want. Anyway, I gave you the names of the guys who let me go or the names they gave me."

"Yeah, I know," the policeman said seriously. "Sam and Dean Winchester."

"And?" Dean said.

"Dean, you've been through a really rough deal today and sometimes the little details get mixed up while you try and process the rest of the crap."

"I remember their names or the names they used and yeah the details maybe a bit sketchy but I do remember that," Dean said firmly. "Did you even bother to pass them on?"

"Sam and Dean Winchester? You sure that was their names?"

"Yes," Dean said slowly. "That was their names, one looked exactly like me and the other one was shorter stockier, short hair. If you get one of those sketch artists in here I can discribe him."

"Sam and Dean Winchester were criminals wanted by the FBI."

"So you do believe they're real?" Dean asked. "And they are wanted? So what now, do I have to give another statement to the FBI?"

The cop took a breath, "No you don't Dean. The Winchester brothers were killed in an explosion in a police station in Colorado."

"But how?"

"The medication you were given could have affected how you remember things, the details."

"You saying that the medication I was given made me remember two guys who I never met who died in an explosion in a state I've never been to?"

"You could have seen that report on the news a couple of nights ago," the policeman said. "One of those '_Why do we pay taxes to the federal government for law enforcement because look at all the FBI fuck ups' _deals."

"What?"

"As you said, you do have a resemblance to Sam Winchester, the drugs you were on could have….I've seen it before Dean, your mind splits to protect yourself, disassociates I think the term is."

"What?"

"You see this guy on a news report, don't realize that you've probably seen it; but then you're going through hell so next thing it's not happening to you. It's happening to some guy that looks like you that really deserves it while you're standing there watching, then when it's over, it's all a mistake. But that doesn't change the fact that you remember everything that happened to you, even if you don't want to admit to yourself yet."

"I don't understand."

"Dean, you wouldn't be the first guy to go through this, you have nothing to be ashamed of."

"Ashamed of?" Dean was confused. "I got grabbed by an idiot, who you say is dead, who thought I was his brother. Then I fell out of his car."

"Sure that is all that happened," the policeman said trying to sound sympathetic as the nurse hesitated in the background for a moment. "Dean, unless you can tell me different, that there was another reason for you being carried out of this ER then I'm sorry to say that you seeing the Winchester brothers could possibly mean something that you might not want to face yet."

"Me telling you that you're wrong about them being dead?" Dean said hopefully.

The policeman sighed, "I understand that right now you might not want to think about it. But Sam Winchester and his brother being responsible for what happened to you after you were taken from here, is only in your head now. We can get you a counselor who is specially trained to help men who have gone through things like this."

"What? Help me through what I can only be described as the worse day ever, considering my work unit got broken into, I got shot, kidnapped by dead guys, fell out a car and then was stupid enough knock myself out by tripping over a power cord?" Dean asked confused as he winced a little in pain.

The policeman sighed, "Mr. Forester, Dean, you were abducted while you where unable to defend yourself and then 'just let go' a couple of hours later after obviously going through physical trauma."

"Is that what you are calling it?" Dean said jokingly.

"You were out of it and if this guy took advantage of that fact..."

"Excuse me? Are you suggesting that…are you saying what I think you are saying?"

"I'm sorry to say it happens sir, even to active and fit guys like yourself, though not usually in similar circumstances," the policeman said. "

"Give me a break," Dean exclaimed as he tried to hop off the treatment table he had been sitting on.

"Mr. Forester, you have nothing to blame yourself for," the policeman said as he moved to steady Dean. "There is no reflection on you, if anything happened and if don't want to talk about it now then fine we'll be here when you do."

"But nothing happened, not in the way you are saying," Dean protested.

"This guy must of thought you were an easy target but obviously you weren't as from the looks of it you put up one hell of a fight when you 'fell' out of that car."

"I understand how this all sounds but I wasn't, I didn't…nothing like what you say what happened, happened okay."

The police officer nodded before sighing. "Okay sir if you say so. But that doesn't change the fact that when you're ready that counselor will be there if you want it."

Dean ran a tired hand over his bruised face as his shoulders fell. "Worse day ever!"

* * *

"This guy couldn't be anymore vanilla if he tried," Dean Winchester said as he looked through the Dean Forester's things in the living room.

"You wouldn't know normal if it came up and bit you on the ass," Sam replied.

"If I actually cared I would be insulted," Dean retorted. "Though I do know normal and it is scary."

"Just because the only aspects of normal suburban life you've really experienced lately is was in that girl's bedroom after a hook up doesn't mean it is scary."

"Hey, I told you I never want to think about that again."

Sam smirked, "Sure Dean. I'm not the one who suddenly developed a phobia of 'Barbie'. "

"I didn't develop a phobia and it wasn't Barbie."

"Okay."

"Look no woman over 18 should have a collection of little pink and blue toy horses," Dean retorted.

"My little pony?" Sam said holding back his amusement. "You got freaked out by 'My little Pony'"

"Hey you would too!" Dean protested as Sam started to laugh. "Coming face to face with Baby Tiddley Winks and the rest of the Calvary was not in any version of the reverse cowgirl that I wanted to enjoy that night."

"Dean," Sam said trying to reign it in. "Way too much information!"

"You say that Sammy but I sometimes get the feeling that you protest too much," Dean said as his brother continued to laugh at him. He picked up a family picture featuring a nice all American Family standing outside a mom and pop store. He looked at it for a moment before noting his surroundings of the modest neat apartment in not the best part of town, whose single occupant was still pretty much an enigma to him. He looked back at the picture before he thought, _"Wonder how the hell you ended up here dude?_"

"Okay," Dean said. "If this guy got shot because he is secretly the biggest drug lord in the whole of Michigan then he ain't dealing out of here."

"Well then it does look like he was a victim of a random drive by, unless he pissed someone off the sketching he's done."

"They're designs for wood carvings," Dean said as he noted his brother's confused face.

"Wood?"

"Yeah probably why he's got those tech manuals," Dean said as he took a piece of paper out of his brother's hands, "If anything I'd say this on was a design for an onlay?"

"How do you know?" Sam asked.

"Well hold the phone for a second," Dean said with a smirk. "Don't tell me that there is something that College boy don't know?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Sammy, I know this is a shock for you but some people didn't make the honor roll at every school they went to," Dean said sarcastically. "We mortals, instead of doing AP classes like those destined for the Ivy League, had this wonderful mystical place to go to called 'Shop'. And you know what some of us then go on to use what we learned there? They go on to do those things you don't really think too much about but expect to be there, like work construction or become mechanics and draw little twirly things that people think look good on tables and chairs."

Sam rolled his eyes as his brother mocked him. "Okay smart ass, if they are wood designs where is he doing them because this place isn't exactly set up for that, because I didn't find any tools."

"I'm guessing that would be the work unit he's renting?" Dean said.

"What workspace?"

"The one for the rental agreement he has."

"Where did you find that?"

"Does that matter?"

"No," Sam answered.

"Dude, we've had a look around. Not much I can see apart from this guy having real bad luck to run into me because you bugged me to go get a shot," Dean said.

"So you actually stayed around to get it?" Sam asked

"Like that is important right now, Dude?" Dean replied as he started out of the apartment.

"Fine dude, hope you arm falls off," Sam retorted while he followed his brother's lead into the hallway.

"We've done what we can, made sure he's headed towards the hospital, and that is all we can do for the guy." Dean said as Sam carefully locked the apartment door behind them.

"I know," Sam said.

Dean though didn't seem to be paying attention at that point; instead he took a few steps noting a small dust pile beside the apartment next door.

"What is it?" Sam asked as Dean took a second before checking the lentil. He rolled something in between his fingers before proceeding to check the other doorways on the landing.

"What are you up to?" Sam asked.

Dean placed a pinch of what he had found and placed it into his brother's hands.

Sam took a second, "What am I looking at?"

"If I'm not mistaken Sasquatch that's goofer dust," Dean said. "And from the looks of it, it's on every doorway on this floor except…"

"Okay I get it," Sam replied. "Question is why?"

"Well, I'm guessing we both know who the best person is to ask," Dean said hoping his brother would come up with a better answer.

Sam sighed, "Great."

"Yeah, so much for hitting the interstate."

* * *

"Look, I'm fine guys. I appreciate the meal, but you don't need to put me up," Dean Forester argued as Frank's wife served dinner.

"Sweetie, if you and that lug head of a husband of mine think that I'm going to simply let you go back to your place, all by yourself, after all you've been through today then think again."

"Angie, I'm okay."

"Did he call his family?" she asked her husband. "Please tell me that he at least called his folks, Frank."

Frank shrugged as he mouthed the words 'Sorry' to his friend.

"Dean, why the hell haven't you called your folks?"

"It's not like they're nearby Angie," Dean said. "All I need is a couple of days to rest, so what is the point in bothering them."

"Because your mother would want to know if her baby is okay," Angie said causing Dean to make a face.

"Oh Jesus, Ang," Frank said. "He's over 21 and he's a little too tall for diapers."

"Thanks Frank." Dean replied.

Angie scowled. "Just because he's grown up enough to look big bird in the eye, don't mean that the woman won't care to know that her little boy got hurt."

"Big bird?" Dean asked, as he turned to Frank. "How long has it been since your daughter and her kids came by?"

"Too long," Frank said as his wife continued to fuss. "Trust me kid, way too long."

* * *

"You know getting information from the desk clerk isn't as much fun when you just walk up and say. _'Do you know where my ride went?_" Dean Winchester said as he and his brother sat outside the house of Dean Forester's crew boss.

"Saved a hell of a lot of time didn't it," Sam replied as he watched his double having a meal with the older couple.

"I suppose, but I kinda feel like we cheated."

Sam turned to his brother. "How exactly do you think that?"

"No skill used, you didn't even have to use your brain, you just played on your looks dude and someday that isn't going to work for you," Dean said with a smile on his face.

"Sure dude," Sam said before turning back to watch the scene before them. "But this is out there weird right? A guy named Dean looking like me?"

"Yes it is weird, we're in Rod Serling land and we're one person, but he works construction in Detroit and from what according to the DMV he drives a pick up," Dean said mockingly. "I'm disappointed in him, really a pick up?"

"You know what I mean," Sam said. "What with the goofer dust?"

"On everybody's door but not his," Dean pointed out. "We don't know when someone laid that stuff down, Sam. For all we know his door doesn't have any because in this 'universe' he's got your OCD and he dust busted his lintel."

"Excuse me?"

"Okay sorry that was harsh, you don't have OCD, you're just anally retentive about keeping your stuff clean," Dean retorted.

"Don't say this isn't bothering you too," Sam said.

"What? You being anally retentive?"

"We're heading for the Interstate, but you think I want to check this guy's place out? You finding the goofer dust, but it is my fault that we are sitting here for longer than we have to?" Sam said.

"So? We checked guy's alive and it looks like he got some pie, which made me real hungry, dude," Dean replied.

"That isn't the point you are avoiding."

"No, I'm not," Dean replied.

"Yes you are!" Sam retorted. "You know exactly the point you are avoiding."

"And what point is that Sam?" Dean asked. "We are checking up on a guy who looks like you, who works a couple of blocks away from where we were staying. Whose neighbors seem to be set up for warding off evil coming into their homes, though his wasn't. Who was shot the day after we dealt with a case that any hunter with five minutes worth of experience would have picked up, if he bothered to read the Detroit Free Press missing pet page. We are sitting here even when my gut is telling me that we should be doing, what in the long run is better for both him and us is us getting out of dodge."

"So what are we doing here?" Sam asked. "Why haven't you put the car in drive yet?"

Dean sighed. "Because part of me, a small pissy little part of me is saying if the stuff that happened to Forester is connected to us in any way, then I really want to deal with guy that started this now, instead of later. 'Cause I know I'll have to do it at some point. I also know that it or you, because for some reason when it really wants to piss me off, it decides the best way to do is to start talking like you, won't shut the hell up until I can say I'm pretty sure that I've done all I can here. So please Sam, tell me what point am I avoiding?"

"There is a voice in your head that talks like me? And it makes you do stuff?" Sam asked tentatively causing his brother to turn and glower at him.

Sam hesitated. "You know what I'm talking about bro."

"We are not getting into this now," Dean said as he turned back to watch the house. "Man, I want pie; that looks like really good pie."

* * *

"She's serious about not letting me go home tonight isn't she?" Dean Forester said as Frank handed him a beer.

"Kid, I've gave up fighting the woman years ago."

"So that is the secret to a happy marriage?" Dean asked.

"See that is where you went wrong," Frank said with a smile on his face.

"Really, it wasn't the whole being in really being in love with my ex girlfriend thing?" Dean replied.

Frank shrugged. "I'm guessing that didn't help. But that doesn't mean that you are getting to go home tonight because I'll make damn sure I'm not the only one who'll be losing my testicles when she finds out you're gone."

"Fostering Frank," Dean said before taking a slug of his beer. "Let your wife deal with that empty nest syndrome she's got by letting her take care of some kids than need mothering rather than adopting the guys you work with."

"And miss out on watching you guys squirm when she comes on site to see how you guys are," Frank replied. "Anyways, this way I don't have to sit up and panic about what some kid is getting up to while staying under my roof and I still get the occasional piece of cake when she decides to prove to you guys that Ortiz' mom wouldn't know the end of a wooden spoon from the other."

Dean smiled. "And you are saying that I think too small."

"Dean, I got a wife that puts up with me, a girl who I got through college, 2 goofy looking grandkids and a roof over my head that the bank ain't going to try take off of me. I got what I need and I wouldn't change it. You, on the other hand."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah I know!" Dean replied.

"So you may think you are going to get a pass over the next couple of days, but I will be back on your case," Frank said firmly.

"Leave the boy alone Frank, he needs his rest right now," Angie said as she came into the room.

"He needs a kick up the keyster that is what he needs. What happens today doesn't change that." Frank said causing Dean to squirm a little.

"He'll figure out what he wants or how to get there when he's ready," Angie replied as she took the beer bottle out of her husband's hand. "You shouldn't be drinking this."

"Christ Ang, I can have one goddamn beer in my own house!"

"You had one with dinner," Angie replied. "Think of your blood pressure."

"I am, I had a bad day and I'm trying to relax. Plus, I'm not going to let the kid drink by himself," Frank said. Angie turned to look at Dean, who swallowed his mouthful before handing over the bottle to the woman in front of him.

"Sorry," Dean said as she took the bottle out of his hand.

"Thank you," she said. "He shouldn't have given it to you anyway, not with the medication you were given."

"I didn't want to be impolite," Dean said causing Frank to throw him a dirty look.

"Kid, don't think that you buttering her up is going to make me kick you out of this house tonight."

Dean chuckled, "You sure of that Frank?"

"I told you Dean, you are not going back to that apartment to stay there by yourself, not after today," Angie said firmly. "Actually I'm surprised the police didn't offer to give you a guard or protection."

"It was a drive by, Angie. It wasn't any major conspiracy. The cops think me getting shot was possibly a gang initiation," Dean said. "It wasn't linked to the guy who picked me up from the hospital."

"Was that what that cop said to you back in that trauma room?" Frank asked causing Dean to look away.

Dean coughed. "Kind of."

"Really?"

"Just wanted to shove some psycho babble crap down my throat about details coming back later and dissociation that was all, stuff about counseling," Dean said weakly. "Probably makes him look better on the paper work that he mentioned all that crap to me. But he did say that he didn't think the two things were connected apart from the fact that I have the worse luck ever."

"Sure you do."

Dean smiled. "There is no one waiting in an alley somewhere waiting to gun me down."

"You say that like it makes it alright that you were shot and that all those people got scared out of their minds?" Angie asked. "You should have made them give you a guard."

"They don't have the man power," Dean said. "They said they'd send a car by the house to make me feel better but I wasn't singled out Angie, and before you say anything else that happened to me today. Other work units had been broken into and as for the guy who took me from the hospital, he was whacked."

"Thought the cop said the guys you id'd were dead."

"I don't know about that," Dean replied. "All I know is drugs or not, that guy thought I was his brother and then when his brother did turn up, they let me go."

"And he says he hasn't been singled out for anything?" Angie said to her husband, before turning back to Dean. "Dean, what sort of man doesn't want his brother to get medical treatment when he has been shot? What could he possibly be trying to hide if he is willing to drag his own flesh and blood out of a hospital? You tell me that?"

Dean and Frank looked at each other, before Dean shrugged. "I don't know."

"Don't give me that you don't know," Angie said firmly. "I know you had a bang to the head when you fell out that car, but you know damn well it isn't going to be good."

"Angie, I just want to put it behind me," Dean said.

"I understand that son, but she has a point," Frank said. "You say this guy took one look at you and thought you where his brother. Who's to say that someone else didn't think the same thing?"

Dean's face fell.

"Oh great Frank, scare the boy even more why don't you," Angie said

"You started it," Frank replied.

She turned to the forlorn figure in the corner, "Look honey, don't worry about any of that, you just focus on getting some rest. And if you insist on not calling your family, so they can come and take care of you, you are staying here as long as you need to."

* * *

"So Dean let him go?" the first hunter said as he sat in a car at the back of the house.

"Looks like it," the second hunter said. "So what now?"

"Sam won't be far away and you know it," the first hunter said.

"That means his attack dog brother is going to be with him."

"So, doesn't change things," the first man said.

The second hunter exhaled loudly. "Cops will make their presence known tonight; I'd say tomorrow is our best bet. As for the Winchester's, if they are around I'd say they'll be somewhere close by around until tomorrow at least."

"So we wait to tomorrow and the second that Mr. Forester there seems like he's alone, we go in."

The second hunter nodded. "And Sam and Dean should come running the second we make enough noise."

* * *

_The sun was coming down, and the twilight was coming in the window._

"_Dean, I can't decide if I want to read Crime and Punishment or the brothers Karamazov?" she said as he walked into her college dorm to find her examining her shelves._

"_You know I don't like Russian authors, Rory," he said as he brought in another set of shelves for her._

"_You can't say that Anna Karenina put you off all Russian literature," Rory replied. _

"_I just didn't like it," Dean said._

"_You just don't like that she threw herself under a train."_

"_That isn't just it; I didn't get into the style that's all."_

"_Yeah, but that was Tolstoy, bag boy. She's asking you about Dostoevsky," Jess said as he lay on her bed skimming as he skimmed through a magazine._

"_I haven't read any of his books, so how can I give her an opinion?" Dean asked._

"_Maybe, I should reread The Idiot?" Rory said. "Though I thought I'd got rid of my copy."_

"_Yeah Dean, she should get rid of 'The Idiot'?" Jess said as he morphed into his double from the motel before shooting him in the stomach._

"It's just a dream, it's just a dream!" Dean said panting as he woke up in a cold sweat.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: The usual.

Hope this works out, as this plot bunny won't go away it seems!If it doesn't let me know!

* * *

"You don't have to ferry me around you know," Dean Forester said to Ortiz as he unlocked the door to his apartment.

"And risk the wrath of the boss?" Ortiz replied. "You heard Angie, I was the one who left you to get grabbed, and I'm the one who's to make sure that you get back to that house after you pick up your stuff."

"Why do I feel suddenly back in the sixth grade?" Dean asked as he grabbed limped across the room, he winced as he picked up a bag.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine."

Ortiz shook his head, "Dude, even with your leg, you got internal bruising remember? That's what the doc said."

"Really?" Dean joked as he took a moment to sit down. "Is that what you get when your insides play pinball against your rib cage while your ass hits asphalt?"

"Jesus, Dean," Ortiz said guiltily as he went to get his friend a glass of water.

"You got not going to cry are you?" Dean said mockingly. "I'm not sure I have any Kleenex left."

"Left?" Ortiz asked raising an eyebrow. "Dude, no more information, please."

Dean chuckled. "Seriously, don't go all mommy on me. I'm having a hard enough time dealing with Angie right now."

"I am not going mommy on you."

"Yeah, you are. So stop it. It's really freaking me out," Dean said as Ortiz hovered while he took his meds.

"I'm just…."

"Don't please, because you don't have to, okay. That hospital just needs better security that's all."

"Right," Ortiz replied. As Dean levered himself up to get some clothes.

"Seriously, I want to get some stuff and get back to Frank's before Angie sends out a search party for us."

"Surprised that she let you out of the house," Ortiz said smiling. "Let alone let you get out of bed."

Dean smiled. "She's making cobbler tonight."

"Oh man, cobbler? Peach?"

"Berry and Apple," Dean replied as he made his way over to a closet.

"She never makes that unless she just trying to piss my mama off," Ortiz said as Dean stopped and picked up something.

"What's up?" Ortiz asked as Dean started to look around the room.

"This ain't mine," Dean said as he held the small bag in his hand.

"So?" Ortiz said.

"It was in my closet," Dean said as he started to freak out.

"What is it?" Ortiz said taking the leather bag out of his friend's hand, before smelling it. "Jesus, this stinks."

"It isn't mine, and I sure as hell didn't put it there," Dean said as his friend started to work the knot.

"Probably was from the last tenant, one of those lavender scent bags," Ortiz said as the knot gave him a little trouble.

"The guy who rented this place before me was a truck driver, don't think it is his," Dean said. "And the way that thing smells I'm sure I would have found it by now."

"Could have been the guy's girlfriend and just started to turn have just turned," Ortiz replied as the cord finally gave.

"Yeah and it's taken me a year to find the thing," Dean said. "Jesus, that stinks."

"What the fuck?" Ortiz said as he opened up the cloth.

"Is that a bone?" Dean asked.

"And some teeth, teeth with bits attached?" Ortiz said. "Okay, now I say we freak."

"Now we freak? There is a bag containing bones and other stuff in my closet that I'm damn sure wasn't there yesterday and now you say I can freak?"

Ortiz thought for a second. "We should call the cops then."

"And say what? I'm the guy who was shot and kidnapped yesterday in what they swore was two completely unrelated events and now it appears I have serial killer souvenirs turning up in my closet?"

"They look like rabbit teeth to me," Ortiz said.

"Like that matters," Dean said as he limped to another room.

"What are you doing?" Ortiz asked.

"Seeing what else was gone through!" Dean said firmly as he tried to bend down to get the footlocker from under his bed.

"Let me get that," Ortiz said helping his friend.

Dean took a few moments looking at his personal papers, "I didn't leave this like this."

"Something missing?"

"No, but. I'm sure it's all mixed up. Stuff's not where it should be."

"You sure?" Ortiz asked as Dean pulled out a few papers.

"Yeah!"

"But nothing is missing?" Ortiz said looking about the neat rooms.

"I don't think so," Dean said as he and Ortiz looked at the small bag in Ortiz' hand.

"Right then grab everything you need and let's get the fuck out of here then!" Ortiz said.

"And go where?" Dean asked.

* * *

Dean sat quietly in Ortiz' car as he was driven back to his friend's house, his mind milling over the fact that someone had recently 'violated' his home as well as all the other events that had made him feel powerless and out of control. The feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn't good and he wasn't sure what to do about it.

Had the cop been right? Had he imagined the Winchesters? Though the other insinuations of the cop had been way, way, way off base he could have been wrong about the men who grabbed him, about the guy who looked like him? Possibly, he had been in and out of consciousness, but he knew for a fact that he hadn't dreamed up that damn bag or the fact that someone, not him, had been through his things.

But who the hell had it been? The guys he had 'imagined' putting him in a cab? They knew where he lived or knew where his neighborhood was and it wouldn't take long to find out his actual address.

And if that was the case, what the hell did that mean for him now. Jesus, why him? He didn't have an interesting life, he worked construction, sent most of his spare cash to his ex wife and her family for alimony and to pay back for the wedding they paid for.

He was a nobody; just a schmuck with a high school diploma, who picked up a pay check like millions across America.

Why the hell was he being targeted by a psycho who at best appeared to be into voodoo and at worse probably spent his time painting clown pictures between digging holes that he planned to fill in his basement. Actually neither of those sceneries was very good.

* * *

"So? Anything?" Sam asked as he joined his brother by the side of the car.

Dean Winchester shook his head. "Our boy seemed to be keen for his friend to leave the stuff they took from his place in the car."

"You?"

"Dean Forester, good work record. Born Chicago, went to High School in Connecticut. Dropped out of college. Married at nineteen."

"Married at nineteen?" Dean asked.

"And divorced about a year later. Ex wife still in Connecticut"

"So the kid wasn't his then? Or is he living in a one bedroom apartment so he can keep up with child support?"

"What?" Sam said.

"Married at that age, only reason for that is that someone found out that he should have taken out stock in Trojan instead of taking Kirk Cameron's advice about celibacy rings," Dean joked.

"Not the only reason."

"Well, divorce makes it sound like both of them are alive so I'm guessing we aren't talking a Hallmark film of the week guest staring Rosie O'Donnell as the caring oncologist who helps the two teenagers be together during the last days for one of them."

"What?"

"Never mind," Dean said quickly. "Just saying that no-one gets married straight out of High School outside the Amish, without a crappy reason being behind it."

"There was no kid."

"Oh, well that sucks," Dean said slightly mournfully. "Okay, I'm a douche, I admit it."

"Dean, there doesn't appear to ever have been a kid, or that the girl was pregnant."

Dean knotted his brow, "So?"

"Adultery; that is what was sighted on the papers. He didn't contest it."

Dean nodded, sagely. "Well, what do you expect when a guy at his peak ties himself to one girl, even if he does think it's forever. Must have got the urge to get the itch scratched the second that ring went on."

"Dean, unlike you some people don't think that getting married is equivalent to being put on a leash." Sam said.

Dean raised an eyebrow in response to his brother's statement. "So, you think it is possible it's the ex-Daddy in law that came a shooting?"

"From a small town in Connecticut about thirty minutes drive from Yale?" Sam asked. "Not exactly gun toting, out for revenge country is it."

Dean shook his head, "Probably would have just black balled him from every country club in the New England area."

"Not everyone from New England is in a country club, Dean."

"Yeah right," Dean said as he headed towards Ortiz' car.

"What are you doing?"

"Well I was waiting for you before I did this but I was going to have a peak in the jalopy here," Dean said. "Because the two of them seemed spooked about something."

"So you thought you'd wait for me?" Sam asked.

"Well, if you weren't there, I'm guessing I'd be doing it twice, just to prove to you that I'd done it in the first place."

"Why?" Sam said "Couldn't you just tell me that the voice in your head that talks like me, saw you that you did it?"

"Bite me!" Dean said coldly as he made a move towards the van.

After about five minutes into the search, Dean stopped. "Oh crap!"

"What?" Sam asked as he popped up from searching the back seat.

"Oh, double crap!" Dean said firmly. "Tell me that our friend Forester is a member of a Hoodoo cult?"

"Not that I can find, why?" Sam asked as his brother handed him the small leather hex bag he had found in the glove compartment.

"Because if he or his pal ain't then I think that it's all about to hit the fan," Dean said. "Unless you are going to tell me that you put it at his place?"

Sam shook his head, "Did you?"

"Sam, when the hell have you ever known me to get my hands on these on short notice?"

"Good point."

"That just leaves our friend with the dust then, doesn't it?" Dean said. "Shit how did we miss?"

"Because we weren't looking for it," Sam said before noting the bag of clothes and other stuff in the back seat. "He's going to run."

"After what he's been through and I'm guessing finding this do you blame him?" Dean asked.

"So what now?" Sam said as his brother seemed lost in thought as they heard the yell from the house.

"Leave them alone," Dean Forester yelled as the man forced him and Ortiz to the floor.

"Not yet we don't," the masked hunter said as he held a gun on them.

"I'm sorry we didn't want to do this like this. With any luck this will be over soon," the second said as he made Angie sit down.

"Well for some of you," the first hunter said pushing the barrel of his gun into Dean Forester's back as the front door was kicked open by Sam.

"Well, you took your sweet time didn't you, Sam!" the first one yelled. "Was getting to the point where I thought you weren't going to show."

"Who are you?" Sam asked as he trained his gun on the first assailant.

"Just the instrument of the Lord," the first hunter said. "And we are not going to sit back and let whatever one of you it is, lead us all down to the gates of hell!"

"What?" Ortiz asked.

"Oh, didn't you pal Dean here tell you?" the first hunter said.

"Will you stop dragging this out and get it over with!" the second hunter yelled.

"Yeah, why don't we get this over with?" Dean Winchester said as he came up behind the second hunter and cold cocked him, just as the first pulled Dean Forester to his feet to use him as a shield.

"Didn't need to go down this way Dean!" the first hunter said to Dean Winchester. "Gordon and others said you are a good guy, but you are being blind here."

"Let the guy go!" Sam yelled as his brother took a step toward the first hunter, eyes blazing, angry as hell.

"Don't take orders from you, hell spawn."

"Gordon was a dick!" Dean Winchester yelled.

"Maybe it isn't Sam," the first hunter said, "Maybe it's this Forester guy, but you know it's one of them and you know what has to be done to be sure. You should be helping us on this, end it for them now while the innocent can be saved. You're a good soldier Dean, one of us. Your father taught you well so why won't you see that you should do what you were taught to do."

Dean Winchester cocked the gun in his hand just as Dean Forester took that moment to elbow the hunter in the ribs as hard as he could, causing the hunter to let go of him so allowing Dean Winchester to take a shot, that connected with the man's shoulder, who in the resulting confusion of Dean Forester falling forward and Angie's screaming to escape through the window.

"Angie!" Ortiz yelled as he got to his feet scrambling to the frightened older woman.

"Damn it!" Dean Winchester yelled as he got to the window while his brother tended to a confused and scared Dean Forester.

"Who ever it is I am going to hunt him down and end that guy!" Dean Winchester yelled as he pulled the unconscious hunter onto a chair.

"Dean," Sam said motioning to the others in the kitchen.

"You guys okay?" Dean Winchester asked noting Ortiz's bleeding brow.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Dean Forester asked as he nursed his side, while Angie began to quiet down.

"Where's her husband?" Sam asked Ortiz.

"Like I'm going to tell you anything."

"She looks like she needs him that is all, she's going into shock, so call her husband," Sam said as he tried to reassure the people in front of them passing Ortiz the phone.

"Shit!" Dean Winchester exclaimed as the second hunter began to wake up. Dean Winchester pulled off the mask to find a hard faced man staring back at him.

"Knew it would come to this," he said as he came face to face with Dean Winchester. "Should have made sure we took him out in the damn market."

"You were the one that shot me?" Dean Forester asked causing the whole room to look at the hunter. "Why? What have I done to you?"

"We thought you were him," the hunter admitted motioning to Sam. "We thought he was up to something and we couldn't risk it."

"So this is a mix up then?" Sam said.

"Was, but now we have to be sure," the hunter said before turning to Dean Winchester. "We have to be sure and you know there is only one way to be that."

"Bullshit!" Dean Winchester said through gritted up.

"You know this has to be done."

"I'm asking the questions so you are going to tell me how many of your friends are out there? How many want us dead?" Dean Winchester asked firmly.

"We don't want you dead Dean. As for those 'friends' they aren't my friends, but honestly I don't know how many of them are the same mind about your brother. But no-one has a beef with you and you know it, they all understand why you don't want this done," the man said looking at in the direction of Sam and Dean Forester. "I don't like it but you know one of them is marked Dean; either this guy or your brother is marked and if they were any type of decent men they would go and it themselves. But if not, better we do it now before they show their true colors."

"That's bull," Dean Winchester retorted.

"No, it isn't and you know it. There is too much at stake to let them both simply walk away. Christ Dean, you thought Mr. Forester there was your brother when you took him from that ER, so if you can mix them up, if we can mix them up, who's to say someone else won't or haven't. We have to be sure."

"You're going to kill both of us to be sure?" Dean Forester asked.

"There isn't any other way, I wish to God there was. You seem like a normal guy, but we can't take the risk, even if you are innocent it."

"It was you that broke into my place? You that put that stuff there?"

The hunter looked at the bag. "We couldn't risk you calling in reinforcements."

"You put teeth and bones in my place to keep me from calling reinforcements? What the fuck are you talking about?" Dean Forester asked in disbelief as the Winchester brothers looked at each other knowingly.

"So if you've been watching him since he was dropped off, why do this? This isn't smart," Dean Winchester said.

"We didn't mean to barge in here," the hunter said turning to Ortiz and Angie. "We didn't want to scare you. I didn't want to do that to you guys."

"So why did you?" Sam asked.

"We wanted to get him when he was alone; we knew you would be watching."

"So you hoped that you'd try and grab Forester and you'd get both him and my brother when we stormed in when we got in your way?" Dean Winchester asked causing the hunter to nod in response.

"But we saw that he had brought bags back with him, he was packing his things," the hunter said. "He was going to run and this would have been our best shot before you picked him up."

"What?" Dean Forester asked looking at the two men in front of him.

"The plan was to get you when you were alone," the hunter explained. "But plans change, you have to understand that. We weren't going to miss our shot; we could risk you getting away."

"Now for the six four thousand dollar question; who are you?" Dean Winchester asked angrily.

"Dean!" Sam said as he saw the look on his brother's face.

"It doesn't matter who I am. Because this isn't over and you know it!" the hunter retorted causing Dean to knock the man back into unconsciousness.

"That's great Dean!" Sam exclaimed as the hunter slumped to the floor. "That was real helpful."

"Hey, smartass, I'm not the one they want in the ground," Dean Winchester barked as he flexed his throbbing hand. "Shit, should have hit the interstate, they damn well would have left these people alone if we had left."

"You don't know that," Sam replied.

"They were going to kill me?" Dean Forester said quietly. "What the hell did I do to them?"

"Nothing dude, these dicks….are just dicks," Dean Winchester said pulling the guy to his feet, "Call the ambulance for her and the cops as soon as we are gone."

"What are you going to do with him?" Dean Forester yelled as the Winchesters' headed to the door. Sam stopped and turned looking at his double.

"What do you care?" Dean Winchester yelled, before turning to look at the expression on his brother's face, as well as the other's in the room.

"We're not going to hurt him," Sam said.

"How do we know that?" Ortiz said. "Not that the bastard doesn't deserve everything that is coming to him."

Dean Winchester glared at the large construction worker for a second, before he relaxed, "This guy is going to find himself in a place where he is going to get three squares as well as a soft bed, padded walls and a nice jacket that fastens up the back. Good enough for you?"

"Yeah," Dean Forester said as he put a hand on his friends shoulder to calm him. "But what about the other guy? He's going to come back isn't he? He's going to try and kill me again isn't he?"

"So we tell the cops," Ortiz said to his friend. "We make them give you protection this time."

"From who? A crazy guy we can't describe, who has a hard on to kill me?" Dean Forester asked before gesturing in Sam Winchester's direction. "And all because I look like whoever this guy is?"

"Won't matter if you the cops do believe you, because they ain't going to be able to stop it," Dean Winchester replied. "So I'm going to give a piece of advice, if you care about your friends here, your family best you follow through on packing your bags dude. Don't want them to get caught in the cross hairs do you?"

"What?"

"You think they just knew just to follow you here? They knew your name, they've been watching you, so if you care about anyone best you DON'T contact them for a while. Just so they and you are safe."

"Hey!" Ortiz said as Dean Forester took in what was said. "You ain't thinking on bailing now are you?"

Dean Forester swallowed, before turning to look at Angie who was sitting still terrified in the corner.

"Dean?" Sam said as his brother made a move to leave.

"Don't you dare give me the bitch face, bro!"

"Okay then fine, you drop the guy off at county psyche ward, but I'm staying here," Sam replied.

"Staying here?" Dean Forester asked.

Sam nodded. "Help you pack up what you need, got a friend who'll probably put you up."

"Sam!" his brother yelled.

"We aren't leaving him here, not now," Sam replied. "We'll take him to Bobby's."

"Don't you think that he might have a say on that?" Dean Winchester said.

"Yeah, you're not taking me anywhere," Dean Forester replied.

"Look my brother is right, the guy who got away is going to keep coming and you can't be sure that you're going to be as lucky next time. Our friend he'll let you stay with him until we find the guy, unless you have some other idea what you want to do," Sam said to Dean Forester. "If that is the case then fine, you got questions, I'll try to answer them the best I can."

Dean Winchester muttered under his breath, he turned to his brother, "Fine but I'm not breaking your ass out of jail when the cops come and pick you up."

"Be quick then," Sam replied.


	5. Chapter 5

Hello there - me again.

Know this part is short so sorry if it gets a bit confusing with so many voices - well, four of them, but I guess if this tale is to continue at some point this issue would have to be addressed!

PLease let me know what you think. Trust me it helps with this.

* * *

"Hey Bobby?" Dean Winchester said as he banged on the door to the house.

"Door's open boys," the voice yelled.

"You sure that's safe?" Dean replied as he entered the house.

"Only an idiot would try and get through my door," Bobby said as he appeared in the hallway. "Anyway, you two said you were coming with company."

"Yeah, this is the company we were talking about," Sam said as Dean Forester stood quietly in the doorway.

Bobby took a moment looking at the battered kid in front of him as Sam and Dean watched on.

Dean Forester nodded, "Hello, they said that you'd…"

"Whoa," Dean Winchester said grabbing his friend's arm. "Bobby, he's okay."

"You mushed up your brain boy, you bring a damn shifter through my door," Bobby said as Dean Winchester held the struggling hunter who held a sliver knife in his hand.

"Bobby, he's not a shifter," Sam said turning to Dean Forester holding onto his arm. "He's just trying to make sure you're, well, you're not something you're not."

"Like what?" Dean Forester asked confused as he pulled away from Sam's grasp. "He's as crazy as the guys that tried to kill me in the first place."

"No, he isn't," Dean Winchester said as he continued to hold Bobby, while Dean Forester started limping toward the car.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, letting go of Bobby. "Wait!"

Bobby stilled for a second before elbowing the younger man low, somewhere that caused Dean Winchester to double over in pain. "You named it? You bring a beat up shifter here, which you named? Named it after you? What the hell is going on, boy?"

"It's…Jesus," Dean Winchester said as he tried to catch his breath.

"Don't tell me that that thing is your new plan for holding off the hounds when your time comes," Bobby said as Dean tried to straighten up.

"He ain't a shifter," Dean managed to say. "Don't ask me how, but he ain't a shifter."

"Prove it!" Bobby said as he calmed down.

"Can I get an ice pack or something first?" Dean Winchester asked.

Bobby glared at him. "Prove that you and your brother ain't lost your brains, because if you are planning to get that thing to wear your face and tell those demons that its name is Dean when the time comes….well it's stupid!"

"I know that," Dean replied. "He's just a guy who needs a place to stay because of us. We didn't know where else to take him."

"He isn't crazy," Sam said to Dean Forester as he got the scared guy to come back to Bobby and his brother. "He's just…Bobby."

"He wants to stab me," Dean Forester stammered as Sam took the knife out of Bobby's hand before offering it to Dean Forester.

"He needs to see blood," Sam said. "All you have to do is show him a little blood and he won't try and stab you."

"So you want me to stab myself?" Dean Forester asked.

"Just a little blood, that is all he needs to see," Sam replied.

Dean Forester looked at the various faces around the room. "I knew coming with you guys was a bad idea."

"Yeah, but what real choice did you have? And you're here now," Sam pointed out still offering the knife. "If you're worried, you can keep the knife when you're done."

"Sam!" Bobby growled as Sam waited for Dean Forester's next move, which was to nick his finger until the blood ran free.

"Happy?" Dean Winchester asked Bobby.

Bobby's face narrowed as he shoved his hand in his pockets, "No."

"So, I pass some test?" Dean Forester asked.

"Sure," Sam said reassuringly, turning to his old friend. "Bobby, this is Dean Forester."

"Forester?" Bobby said, looking at the young man in front of him. He turned to start walking towards the living room.

"Come on," Dean Winchester said as he slowly started to follow.

"What now?" Dean Forester asked as he entered the room to find Bobby standing at his desk setting light to something.

Sam huffed. "Come on Bobby, he isn't…."

"Shut up Sam!" Bobby said as he waved the smoke into the air. He turned towards Dean Forester before throwing some water in the boy's face.

"Hey!"

"You walk over there, now" Bobby said firmly to which both Dean and Sam Winchester both sighed.

"Why the fuck do I have to do that?" Dean Forester asked as he wiped the water out of his face, to which the only response he got was a silent stare from Bobby. "Fine then, I'll do it."

"Anything else you want to test?" Dean Winchester asked as Dean Forester limped across the room as Bobby watched intently.

"Now can you please explain why I had to do that?" Dean Forester asked the old man as he came back to join the group. Sam pointed upwards to the ceiling.

"What the hell is that?" Dean Forester asked as he looked at weird drawings on the old crazy guy's plaster work.

"You don't know what that is?" Bobby asked.

Dean Forester shrugged. "Should I?"

"Damn you John!" Bobby growled in response before he walked round the boy in front of him while mumbling in all what Dean Forester could make out was a couple of other languages.

"Hey, Hey. Don't you go there," Dean Winchester said straightening up.

"Bro," Sam said sympathetically.

"How old is he?" Bobby asked the Winchesters. "Twenty five, twenty six?"

"I'm…" Dean Forester started to say.

"He isn't!" Dean Winchester retorted. "He isn't okay. Don't you two go there!"

"Dean," Sam said to his brother.

"No, you've been hinting this since Detroit, but you're wrong, Sam. Dad wouldn't have dumped a kid, he didn't dump either of us and even if he did think about it, I would know!"

"Dean, you can't say that, you don't know that," Sam argued.

"Kid's called Dean, boy," Bobby said as Dean Forester watched on. "Your Daddy was a selfish bastard, maybe in his head he thought he was doing the right thing."

"You think my Dad would dump his son and give him his other son's name?" Dean asked. "And if he did; why just only one? Why not all three of us, if you two are so sure that this guy is my brother?"

"Dean, you were messed up after the fire," Bobby said to Dean Winchester. "First time I met you, you weren't really talking and that was almost two years after you lost your mom."

Sam took a breath, "Dad might have known it was only me that the Demon wanted, and you, well, maybe he thought sticking you in the system wasn't the best thing. Isn't it possible if we did have a brother who could have a normal life, Dad might have tried to give him that?"

"He wouldn't have Sam!" Dean said.

"You got to admit a baby, would be in and out of the system in minutes, boy?" Bobby reasoned. "A traumatized four, five year old, well, hell I don't want to think about it. The name thing, maybe it was the best he could give you."

"So he kept Sam because of that Yellow Eyed bastard and me, because I was fucked up, but he saved my name?" Dean Winchester said incredulously. "You're talking about my Dad here. Sam, you know the only use for symbolism he had, was to use it to slow down sorry sons of bitches until he worked out how to kill them."

"But," Bobby started to say.

"But, what?" Dean Winchester asked Bobby. "But, after two minutes of meeting this guy you decide he's mine and Sammy's long lost brother? You and Sammy decide that he had a twin we didn't know about?"

"Boy, look at him!" Bobby said pointing in the direction of Dean Forester.

"Bobby, Bob, or whatever your name is, stop it!" Dean Forester yelled. "Sam said you'd give me a place to stay that was safe, but one minute you try to stab me and the next you're telling me that I'm related to these two? I'm not! My parents are Randy and May Forester! I have sisters, not brothers. I'm not adopted."

"See," Dean Winchester said,

"How can you be sure?" Bobby asked Dean Forester.

"I'm not, and even if I was adopted, I'm the wrong age to be his twin, if he's twenty five or twenty six; I'm twenty four," he yelled as he gestured in Sam's direction.

"It wouldn't be hard to shave a year off a baby's birthday of you if you want, if you wanted to make sure he was safe" Bobby reasoned.

"Safe from what?" Forester asked. "Safe from some militia that thinks that either me or Sam here is the demonic…hell, I still don't get half of it. I don't get what is really going on here!"

"Militia?" Bobby asked confused looking in Sam's direction before turning back to Dean Forester and nodding. "Yeah, sure kid, militia. John tried to keep one of his kids safe from… the militia."

"Bobby, stop it. My Dad wouldn't have," Dean Winchester said as he shook his head.

"You aren't even going to think about it as a possibility, are you?" Bobby asked. "Even though you got this guy standing right in front of you."

"No," Dean Winchester said firmly.

"Maybe he didn't know?" Sam said. "Maybe, Dad didn't know."

"What Dad didn't know you had a twin?" his brother replied. "And they call me the stupid one."

"You were four, Dad was cut up as it was, and maybe he thought that it wasn't just Mom that didn't make it out. It's hard enough to deal with the love of your life but her and a baby?"

"Oh please," Dean Winchester said running a palm over his face.

"My name is Dean Forester. I was born in Chicago," Dean Forester interjected. "I am not adopted, I know who my family is and even if I was, I'm not related to anyone in this room. So you can just shut up about whatever the hell is going on in your heads!"

"Dude, I'm with you," Dean Winchester said before turning to the other two. "So you two stop this now, I would have known!"

"How Dean?" Sam asked his brother.

"Well, I might have been four Sammy, but I would have damn well known if they brought more than one baby home from the hospital wouldn't I?" Dean Winchester said. "Or are you going to say that I blocked out part of my family? That I remember the night Mom died, but I just wanted to block out the rest of it?"

"Dean," Bobby said sympathetically

"No! Even if I did, we got pictures from back then, pictures with little Sammy in them, not little Sammy and ….someone else. Even if there was, you think that we'd just blindly bump into the guy? We deal with weird shit but that is too much." Dean Winchester said firmly before standing up to storm out the room.

Sam stood up to follow,

Bobby shook his head, "Leave him boy. Let him cool off."


	6. Chapter 6

Okay this is rough and has been a while since I posted - still unbeta'd so if there is anyone willing to offer please let me know, because I know I have a habit of making dialogue an excuse for exposition and my grammar sucks big ones

As Dean Forester and Dean Winchester are now in the same room I've tried to make it clear who is who but if it isn't let me know!

* * *

Dean Forester sat at the kitchen table, coffee cup in hand, containing, well it wasn't only coffee.

"Sorry kid," Bobby said as he sat down across from him.

"You aren't going to try and skewer me again?" Dean Forester asked as he glared at Bobby. "Or tell me that my family isn't my family?"

Bobby shook his head, "No."

"Good! I didn't appreciate that!" Forester replied.

Bobby nodded, "Sorry but, looking at you, looking at Sam, you got to admit it, it's the first thing that is going to pop into people's heads. Though, knowing John, well dumping his kids in motel, with a shotgun and a box of cheerio's wasn't past him but leaving one, part of that woman of his, all alone out in the world with no idea how to look after himself – that wasn't him. Well, the man he became. If he had dumped you when he first got into this, I wouldn't have put it past him to hunt you down to make sure you were okay later on."

"I know who I am and it has nothing or had nothing to do with any of this or Sam's family until some asshole decided to drag me into it," Dean Forester said firmly before taking a mouthful from the cup.

Bobby smiled as he watched the boy's reaction. "Sorry, got a little over enthusiastic with the gut rot. Looked like you needed it."

"Thanks?"

"You're welcome," Bobby said. "So what do you know about what is going on? What did they tell you to get you to come here?"

"Sam told me bits of it, but it was the two mad men who scared friends and announced that they wanted me dead to protect the innocent that really focused things for me. Sam said that you'd be willing to put me up until they decided to leave me alone."

"Why didn't you just call the cops?"

"Well, they aren't going to really explain what is going on are they?"

"So you came here to find out why this happened to you? To understand what is going on?" Bobby said laughing as Forester nodded.

"That's a stupid reason," Bobby said with a smirk.

Dean Forester took a breath, "Yeah, I'm getting that feeling."

* * *

"Dean?" Sam yelled as he looked for his brother in the yard. He had given it a couple of hours, left his brother to stew. Let Dean basically get the whole 'I want to put my fist through something' energy that had obviously building out of his system. Though, he could understand why Dean had reacted like that; what if their Dad had hidden a brother, a twin brother, his twin brother?

How did he feel about that – angry or angrier at John Winchester, jealous or relived and understanding? Had Dad tried to at least think about how to give one of his kids a better life after what happened to Mom? Had he worked out that he carried Demon blood in his veins and gotten the baby that hadn't as far away from him as possible, because the Yellow Eyed Demon would have damn well lorded it over him back in Cold Oak if there was another crib in the Winchester nursery he had bled over.

Though did he really want to think on it? Because Bobby was probably right, Dean would have been screwed up for a long time, he would have just bounced around foster homes if Dad had put him into the system, so why give away the untainted baby and not…? Why not find a hunter or a church or just….because Dean and …Dean could have had the whole American dream, played little league, peewee football, fight about stupid shit and not why the other should have the last of the food in whatever rat hole they were staying in. But that would mean that Dad would have never tried to get his revenge because he couldn't have gone after….wouldn't have known for a fact that at some point he'd cross that demons path again when he came to claim…..

If Dean Forester was given away by John Winchester, was it because he wanted to do the best for him or was it because of reasons Sam didn't want to think about.

Or, as his brother was saying - Dean Forester's existence just another cosmic joke on them, from somewhere that had workings he would never understand, not that he really wanted to.

"Come on, where are you?"

"Christ Sam, I'm busy!" Dean Winchester said as his brother found him under the car.

"What are you doing?"

"Booking a vacation to Cancun," came the reply. "What does it look like?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know."

Dean stuck his head out from where his working, "I'm checking the shocks."

"Right," Sam said.

"He said that he said there was a problem, I'm going to check."

"Okay?" Sam said. "But, wouldn't you know?"

"When was the last time I spent enough time in the back seat to feel how the rear shocks were?"

Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Not like that," Dean said. "When she is moving, and I meant the car, Dude."

"Dean…"

"No Sam, lets not get into this. Even there was the remotest chance in hell he was, which he isn't; that doesn't change the way things are. He's in trouble because of us, so we try and fix it for him; that is it."

* * *

"Hey, it's me," Dean Forester said as he got an answer from the other side of the line.

"Kid, you okay?"

"Sure Frank, how's Angie?"

"She's okay, so is Ortiz before you ask," Frank replied. "Where are you?"

"I…" Dean started to say. "I'm not too sure actually? Dakota I think,"

"North or South?" Frank quickly asked.

Dean hesitated. "I'm not sure that is a good idea if you know."

He could hear Frank sighing on the other end of the line. "Dean, the cops were round, I know you begged us to keep them out of it, which I'm not happy about, but…."

"But what?" Dean Forester asked.

"It's been a few days and it looks like your folks called them."

Dean thought for a moment, panic hitting until realization sunk in. "I forgot to cancel my follow up at the hospital. They would have called my next of kin."

"Not to mention that you ain't talked to them?

"What?" Dean asked.

"That's what your Dad said."

"You saw him?"

"He came down to work, been to your place," Frank explained.

"You and Ortiz didn't say did you?"

"The man is in pieces Dean," Frank stated. "He knows you have been shot and now you've disappeared."

"I can't bring this to their door, Frank and I can't tell them what is going on if I don't understand it."

"That isn't the only reason you ain't been talking to them?" Frank asked. "He said you haven't called for about five weeks."

"Has it been that long?" Dean jokingly said only to be met was a silent response waiting for an explanation. "My sister's graduated; Mom's been going overboard since then that is all, I swear."

"Right," Frank replied. "So you decided not to talk to them about this, as well?"

"Frank, them knowing that I'm here is about as good an idea as you knowing about it."

There was a few moments silence.

"Dean, you keep in contact you hear?" Frank said.

"Sure Frank."

"Dean! I'm serious. If you aren't going to go to the cops and plan on staying with those lunatics, you keep in touch you hear. Or better yet, come back here."

"Frank, if I'm around, you think that the one that isn't locked up isn't going to come after you guys again just to get to me?" Dean asked. "Isn't it better that I'm near the people that they really do want if they find me again?"

"Dean?" Frank said sympathetically.

"Frank, I don't know what to do," Dean admitted. "I know leaving and going with Sam and his brother is probably the most stupid thing I have ever done. Probably the last thing I'll ever do, but these guys seem use to this. If I go to the cops would they have any real clue?"

"Dean, come back we'll sort something. You got to give the cops a chance. That other guy, I called the nut house, those guys you're with, did drop him off there. You go to the cops and they can go talk to him."

"Frank, at least the people here seem to have some real idea of what is happening now and from what I've seen so far it is further out there than… well, I don't know what. If I go to the cops they'll spend weeks trying to piece together the why and can I risk that? If someone wants me dead, I want to understand why."

"Like that matters."

"I'll keep in touch, I promise. But be careful Frank and if those guys come calling again, don't be stupid. Tell them that you've talked to me. Give them my number. Tell them I'm at Bobby's. They'll know where it is."

"Dean."

"Frank, I'm serious. If anyone who isn't the cops or my family asks, you tell them that I'm at Bobby's," Dean said. "Please Frank; don't worry about me, just look out for you and Angie."

After a few moments of hesitation, "Sure Dean, but if you don't keep in touch I swear I'm going to the cops and telling them everything."

* * *

"Well, he was right!" Sam said smirking as his brother huffed back into the house.

"Right about what?" Bobby asked as Dean Winchester threw the greasy towel into the sink.

"Doesn't matter," Dean said. "It's worn, it's just worn and it'd be fine for a while if I wanted to wait."

"But you're not are you?" Sam said with grin firmly plastered on his face.

"What's worn?" Bobby asked.

"Dean…Forester said that there was a problem with the rear suspension or the shocks during the drive and guess what?"

"The right one is worn, but it's still doing its job" Dean said. "I would have caught it way before it became a problem! It ain't like the engine is going to fall out right now."

Bobby chuckled, "But some kid you don't know guessed it before you did."

"Oh brother," Dean said. "Okay, I admit this 'other Sam' seems knows his way around a car. I'll give him that. But, that one is good for at least a couple of hundred at least!"

"Where is he?" Sam asked noting the absence of their guest.

"Back room." Bobby said. "Needed to call someone, seeing how he don't know where he is figured that is okay, but I told him to get some sleep. Looks kind of beat. Anyway, need to know your side, from what he told me he don't understand any of this."

"Well what do expect me tell him?" Sam asked. "He just had a gun in his face and told he could be marked and had to die. I tried my best but…"

"He just told him enough to get him to come with us," Dean interjected.

"Right," Bobby said. "Now I got three idjits."

Dean smiled, "Thanks Bobby."

Bobby sighed. "It wasn't a compliment."


	7. Chapter 7

Okay, just realised how big that last chapter was so chopped it up to make it easier to read for people.

Let us know what you think of the domestic bliss at Bobby's house!

Oh yeah, just a note this is set in the third season of Supernatural - before the trip to hell, so Dean Winchester is still under a death sentence and Ruby is the blonde snarkier version.

* * *

He woke up not too long after the sun went down, his whole body still ached, he felt like shit, but there wasn't much he could do about that and it wasn't his top priority right now.

He opened the door quietly as he walked into the rest of the old house, whose walls seemed to be lined with dusty old books, Part of him wanted to let out a little laugh when he saw those. It wasn't exactly what he had expected from his first impression of the yard and well the rest of what had happened.

Yep, all his experiences with crazy older people didn't really help him deal with someone like Bobby.

Well Taylor was…well he had been Taylor, Babette – crazy cat woman and Miss Patty was okay as long as you followed the directions of staying at least five feet from arm's reach and then there was Frank and Angie, who just had an over active parenting fixation.

Bobby however, well, for all appearances he ran the world's worse library while trying to stab people who came into his home. Actually outside a library or a book store the only place that he had been that housed anywhere close to as many books had been Rory's bedroom, but he had been there for completely different reasons. Though he could image her having a full blown panic attack if she found herself in the middle of so many un shelved and dusty tomes.

He heard voices coming from the kitchen though he took his time, taking in his surroundings before he made a move to join them.

He picked up a dusty book and flicked through it, before settling on a picture of well it was more like a Hieronymus Bosch poster than anything else. He put it down thinking little of it until he picked up another and other, finding them all filled with similar subjects.

Jesus, he took a breath to steady himself.

No, he was judging this guy before he really got to know him and the knife thing; well he had just met the double of a guy he had watched grow up so the guy was startled. Okay the knife thing he didn't understand, but hell what choice did he have right now, except for go with it. Though, thinking about it he could deal better with a guy with a knife coming at him from the front rather than someone with a gun using his back for target practice.

It might be that Bobby was just a crazy book buff, who hated strangers and he'd just stumbled onto part of the collection that had picked up as a job lot. Yeah a job lot, that Sam and his brother knew about so that is why they brought him here. Yeah, Bobby could be a shut in, with a large book collection who basically, whatever his past, liked to freak out people he didn't know by throwing water over them and making them walk under strange plaster work. Sure that was it, he did it to freak people out if they got past his blood letting test?

Oh hell, who was he kidding!

The man back in Detroit had screamed about protecting the innocent, hell spawn and killing those who were marked so on what planet was he on if he thought he could even try to kid himself about this? Especially as he knew for a fact that he had little option but to stay put at that point in time.

"You got no idea where to start?" he heard Bobby ask as Sam tossed the open hex bag across the table.

"They left that at his place," Sam said. "Was thinking that maybe it might be an idea to get in touch with Ruby."

"What?" his brother asked. "You want to bring your 'she bitch' into this."

"She might have an idea of who made it, or the style they were using," Sam argued. "Dean, she has more experience with these things than we do."

"Yeah and I wonder how she got that?" Dean Winchester mockingly answered.

"So what is your idea?" Sam asked. "We don't have a name."

"Well that other guy will still be at the county psyche ward," his brother replied. "I'm guessing the Haloperidol should have kicked in by now, so he might be more willing to talk."

"That is your plan?" Bobby asked. "Good plan."

"Well you got another one?" Dean Winchester asked.

"Driving back across the country to have a conversation seems when you don't have to, is a damn stupid one," Bobby said as he went to pick up the phone.

"What is he doing?" Dean Forester asked as he tentatively looked round the door, thinking that at that point it was safe to join the conversation especially considering the contents of bag that was presently lying on the table.

"He's being Bobby," Sam said calmly as Bobby seemed to talk to someone.

"Yeah, which means he's generally bailing our asses out of stuff. Think he's planning in putting it in the job description. If dealing with our…mine and Sam's family came with one," Dean Winchester said.

"Right," Forester answered as he turned to look behind him at the books that lined the walls.

"You okay?" Dean Winchester asked. "Well, as okay as you can be right now?"

"Yeah," Dean Forester replied quietly before biting his lip as he tried to think. "I…look I get this is a weird situation and that you guys are involved in stuff I don't want to know about and Bobby is…out there. But, what is with the…what is with the shower he gave me and the fact that he well the ceiling thing and the books? What the hell is going on with all the weird crap?"

Both brothers' looked at each other, before turning to face Dean. Sam gestured to him to sit down.

"Well, ehm, well," Sam started to say. "Dean, it's as I told you back at your friend's house we…."

"We what? We deal with crazy people, who have now got it into their heads that they have some religious need to kill both of us because you and me look alike and they can't decide which one they really want dead?" Dean Forester asked causing Sam's face to fall.

"Look, don't matter what we're into, what those douches are into, even if the little you do understand freaks you out so far, all that matters is we find the guy that got away," Dean Winchester said causing his brother to glare at him.

"Fine," came Dean Winchester's retort as he turned to Dean Forester, "Simple truth is that those guys think Sammy here is going to lead the forces of darkness to…well basically kill us all and I'm not talking about Donnie and Marie fans here.

"What?"

"Nothing natural has that many teeth, Sam," Dean Winchester said.

"Sorry, he's just being…himself," Sam explained.

"Well Utah aside, Sam isn't and none of us here want that," Dean Winchester said causing his brother to glare at him.

"Unfortunately for you, there are some other hunters that don't believe that Sam doesn't play for the other side and they just mixed you up with him. But now it looks like they think it might be an idea to, well to be polite about it, 'take both of you out of the picture'."

"Hunters?" Dean Forester asked. "Yeah, hunters," Dean Winchester replied. "You know people who hunt down…well stuff."

"Stuff?" Sam asked his brother as Dean Forester tried to digest what he had been told.

"The guy isn't stupid Sam, he may not understand it but he knows what the bottom line is here, that the people out there know what they are doing," Dean Winchester said before turning to the pale man in front of him. "Now, Sammy here is use to it, got an idea about what to do to look out for himself. You on the other hand, as everyone can see, not so much."

"Thanks," Dean Forester replying to the comment.

"Well you asked," Dean Winchester said.

"So what now?" Dean Forester asked. "You explain some more to the point where I can get out of your hair? I can go to the cops then to try and get some protection?"

"Dude, you know that isn't going to happen," Dean Winchester replied.

"Then at least tell me who these 'hunters' are?" Dean Forester asked. "If I got names or at least a description?"

"Dude, be serious," Dean Winchester replied.

"And you're not going to tell me why these hunter guys got it into there heads to hunt him in the first place are you?" Dean Forester said pointing at Sam to which the brothers hesitated for a moment.

"Not now we ain't," Bobby said as he returned from his phone conversation, "We'll explain it to you later."

"You expect me to sit here and wait?" Dean Forester asked. "That guy is still out there."

"Yes I do, because we don't know who the son of a bitch is and the only plan we have right now is to wait and see who calls back," Bobby said firmly. "But you boy, should go and get some rest."

"What? no?" Dean Forester replied as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "If we have nothing to do but wait then you got time to give me answers."

"Dean, I told you what is going on," Sam said.

"No, you guys have told me part of it. All I really know is there are some serious whack jobs out there who want to kill me because of you two but best hope I have is sticking with you," Dean Forester said firmly to the WInchesters. "But what I want to understand, really understand, is why they think you're special in the first place Sam, why they think that you or now me is the devil himself or what they meant by marked and don't give me any crap about them just being religious fundamentalists, because I know the reason you don't want to go to the police is that the FBI think that you and your brother are dead and I'm guessing you really want to keep it that way!"

"Kid you'll get that, when you look better," Bobby said to Dean Forester as the Winchester brothers stood in silence, not sure what to say to Dean Forester's last statement.

"I want them now!" Dean Forester yelled.

"Tough," Bobby said causing all three men to look at him as he addressed Forester. "You ain't getting them till you're able to understand them."

"I understood enough to go with them, didn't I?" Dean Forester replied. "To stand here while you, whoever you are, tried to stab me, threw water over me and well I don't know what the walking across your front room was about, but I'm guessing that all of that wasn't just so you could then start in on the 'my parents aren't my parents' crap."

Bobby nodded. "You're right, you did. What do you want? A rosette?"

Dean Forester glared at the old man.

"But that doesn't change the fact that you've found yourself way over your head and have worked out that the cops won't be able to help you with this shit and we're the only hope you got," Bobby pointed out trying to sound a little more sympathetic.

Dean Forester inhaled as he gripped the back of the chair in front of him tightly, as he realized the man in front of him was right.

"You'll get your answers, even if you won't like them," Bobby said. "But now, you go and get some rest because from the looks of you, well, you look like you got a fever and us telling you everything right now ain't going to go in. Not like it has to."

Dean Forester looked the older man in the eye, "No I'm…"

"Don't try and con a con man. You think I ain't been around kids that swear blind that they are fine while they are about to have an arm or a leg fall off?" Bobby asked as both Sam and Dean Winchester looked at each other.

"I'm fine," Dean Forester said as Bobby handed him some antibiotics.

"Here, if your doctor didn't give some to you already. Bathroom is down the hall, and the first aid kit is in the closet with the clean towels."

"What?" Dean Forester asked.

"Nothing you can do right now, boy. So go get cleaned up and take the pills," Bobby said. "Last thing we need is us having to take you to the hospital, if we don't have to. We'll get you if we have anything to tell you. But, we'll talk about the rest when you don't look like you are going to fall over."

Dean Forester stood his ground, causing Bobby to raise an eyebrow.

"Seriously, you going to give me that look?" Bobby asked causing Dean Forester to tighten his resolve causing Bobby to sigh. "Like, I've never seen that one before."

"What? Hey!" Sam yelled causing his brother to smirk though Dean Forester didn't move.

"Boy you heard me, go clean up that leg," Bobby stated. "We ain't going to really talk until that is taken care of."

Dean Forester glared for a moment, before turning to head towards the bathroom.

"Bobby," Dean Winchester said mockingly. "That, I have to say was a real touching moment."

"Shut up you idjit."

* * *

It'd been about a day and a half since he had got there, a day after basically being 'put' to bed by Bobby and all that seemed to change is that Sam was being more sympathetic by trying to make sure that he had what he needed. Though, it was grating on his nerves seeing how he was dodging all of his questions about exactly what they were into.

Though that was not surprising as he had been caught leafing through a few more of Bobby's books, which the whole collection seemed to consist of his worse nightmares. Bobby hadn't been in the mood to really explain, still saying that he looked like shit, though when really pressed about the witchcraft and occult stuff was to simply say, "Kid even if we did practiced half this shit, you ain't pretty enough for us to want to sacrifice."

Dean, or the other Dean or Sam's brother; hell, simply Winchester will do, just as he was now simply Forester, as this having the same name thing was confusing everybody. Well, Winchester was simply ignoring him, apart from mumbling something about shock absorbers every time he passed him.

"He doesn't like me, does he?" Forester said to Sam as Winchester pushed past him to get out of the kitchen.

"No," Sam said with a shake of his head. "It isn't that. It's just…well, it isn't you."

"He got upset when you brought stuff up about your Dad," Forester replied. "About me possibly being your twin; though I'm not by the way."

Sam exhaled. "Yeah, kind of. You and what's going down opened up..."

"Wounds, I don't want to know about?" Forester said to which Sam nodded.

"Yeah, plus there is the fact that you worked out that there was something wrong with his car before he did."

"And that is bad?" Forester asked.

Sam scratched his head. "My brother and his car…well…"

"If it was a person they'd end up getting a room?" Forester asked with a smile on his face.

"Yeah, sometimes it feels like I'm interrupting something when I stuck in that passenger seat," Sam said. "Though, seeing that it did use to belong to my Dad, I'm not sure if I feel comfortable about it."

"Okay," Forester said before hesitating. "I take it your dad, he isn't around anymore?"

"Why do you say that?" Sam asked.

"Because your brother got that pissed and your friend didn't look too happy. When all that was needed was to pick up a phone to prove me and your brother were right."

Sam sighed. "Even if he hadn't died. Trust me it wouldn't have been that easy."

"So," Forester said pulling up a chair. "Can you please tell me how the hell you got involved in this so I can work out how I can get out? And can you stop trying to side step anything? I just need to understand what is going down and not the cliff notes version that there are nuts with guns that think that one of us is the devil."

"You're not going to trust that we can find the guy or his friends and then you can go back to your old life then are you?"

"I know I'm not the smartest guy in the world, but I'm not that stupid," Forester replied. "And if you were in my position would you just take it on faith that everything is just going to be okay after all this?"

"Honestly, I'd take anything not to know what I know," Sam said. "To have your type of life."

"My life? Job, rent and paying back my ex's family? Joe Nobody?" Forester said with a chuckle before noting the look on Sam's face. "Then why don't you?"

"Too late for that, not for me. Not anymore. Even though I don't plan to do anything remotely like what those guys think I'm going to do. I'm, what I am," Sam replied.

"Oh great, here comes the musical number."

"Excuse me?" Sam replied.

"It's nothing, girl I used to know, her mother and her could be a little surreal that is all, but that has nothing to do with this," Forester tried to explain as he wiped his brow.

"Dude, are you alright, you're looking a little pale."

Forester shook his head, "No, no more putting me off. I've been waiting for an explanation; no more putting me off - please tell me what is going on."

Sam nodded, before sitting down across the table. "Okay Dean. But, you got to promise to listen to everything and not just, well…because you're going to think I'm crazy. But the scary thing is I'm not."

"Sam, right now I don't think anyone I've met since this started is playing with a full and that includes you," Forester admitted.

"At least you're honest about it," Sam replied.

"The thing is, so far you all seem to be suffering from a collective insanity. So seeing I've already been dragged into this, why don't you guys let me in on the big secret?" Dean asked. "Why have some religious whacko's got it into their heads that you and me are threats to mankind?"

"Threats to mankind?" Sam said with a smile. "With all the Antichrist stuff you've been throwing about I suppose I should say thanks for not asking if my middle name is really Damien."

"Well?"

"Okay you really want to know, fine," Sam tiredly replied running a hand through his mop of hair. "Though I can't believe I'm about to do this.


	8. Chapter 8

Another part of the chopped up chapter

Hope that the explanation of turning Dean Forester into Forester and Dean Winchester into Winchester in the last bit is okay - got fed up typing the names out fully.

* * *

_So what do you think we should do now?" Lindsey asked as she sat across him at their dining room table in her big taffeta wedding dress._

_Dean shrugged, "I don't know. What are we supposed to do?"_

"_I don't know, we are supposed to spend the rest of our lives together," she said smiling._ "_Yeah."_

"_So are you going to go to work?" Lindsey asked. "You do have a job to do, you know?"_

"_What? Did Tom call?" Dean asked to which Lindsey got up from the table to bring over a large axe._

"_What the hell?"_

"_But, you are supposed to use it," Lindsey said. "Or aren't you the man I thought I married?"_

"_What is that supposed to mean?"_

"_She means this," Bobby said putting down one of the books Dean had flicked through. It was open at a picture of a monsters and devils."Time you stepped up boy!"_

"_This isn't me!"_

"_What is that supposed to mean?" Lindsey asked._

"_Did you really think someone like him is going to amount to anything?" Luke said as he brought the meal over to the table._

"_Not that he isn't fun to play with," Rory who seemingly had appeared from nowhere said to Lindsey."There is just something that is well…missing. Have you thought that maybe you could do better?" _

"_Who then?" Lindsey asked._

"_Don't ask me," Sam Winchester said as he passed by, picking up a couple of books from Bobby. "It isn't me either"_

"_Yeah some just some weird shit out there and someone has to deal with it," Winchester said as he peddled by the kitchen on a tricked out black tricycle with chrome wheels, stopping momentarily. "Come on we have work to do!"_

"_Hearing you bro!" Sam said as he got in the trailer his brother was pulling. He turned to Forester, "You should think about getting out of here."_

_"_ _Dean Forester tried to stand up only to find himself handcuffed to Lindsey and Rory._

"_Where do you think you are going?" Luke asked as he started handing out coffee. "You think that you are ever going to leave this behind you. You think we are ever going to get out of this one? Do you think if you hadn't screwed up in the first place you would be in this situation?"_

_At that point both Rory and Lindsey smiled evilly before both of them turned into one of the pictured monsters and launched themselves at him tearing into his flesh._

_

* * *

_"Hello?" a voice at the door asked. "Is it okay if I come in?"

"What?" Forester asked trying to compose himself after another stinking nightmare. He stretched over to pick up his watch; it was a little after four but the day counter – had he really been out of it for a whole day?

"I got some food for you," the voice said. "But if you want to eat at the table you are more than welcome."

Forester straightened up, the room spinning a little.

"Dean? Forester? You with me?" the voice asked. "How many pills of Bobby's did you take?"

"Pills?" Forester asked unsure what the voice was talking about.

"I'm coming in kid," the voice said as the door opened. "So you got one second to try and be decent."

"Who are you?" he asked as the woman put the try down to come over and look at him. She took a second and went to the bottle that Bobby had given him.

"My name is Ellen," she said as she counted the pills. "I'm a friend."

"Where is ….where is?"

"They're outside and don't worry I gave Bobby a piece of my mind about slipping you something in with your antibiotics."

"What?" Forester asked.

"Look, you don't know me and really he wasn't trying to hurt you," She said moving over to him looking into his eyes, stopping sort of whipping out a flash light to half blind him. "But I'll give you a piece of advice. Never leave your meds out when there is an asshole who should know better is on the loose."

"What?" Dean said still unsure what she was going on about as she seemed to have decided to stop her quick physical.

"You talked to Sam yesterday; you asked and he was actually stupid enough to explain his family's crap to you. Which he shouldn't have, just should have explained the parts you need to know," she explained, though she seemed to be addressing those outside the room as much as him. "Didn't need to tell you all about the demons or about what happened to his father or the fact his brother is a stupid scared ass and they keep hitting dead ends."

"What?"

"You might have wanted to know, what was going on, but he didn't have to tell you half that shit," she explained. "Suppose he thought that because you kept asking that you could handle all of it."

"But I didn't?"

"After he told you, you got a little upset, took two of them to hold you down at one point. But talk of hell hounds as well as bringing out books to explain it to you, when you asked, well what did he expect?"

"Oh god." Forester said as he put his head in his hands. "He talked about demons, real demons didn't he? You guys really believe in that stuff?"

"Yeah, usually he'd have more sense but lately, well with all the other crap, I wouldn't be surprised if he's just hanging on by his finger tips and you were just someone not really involved who wanted things explained that he could unload on," she said.

"Is that what you call it?" Forester asked.

She nodded. "Well, after that Bobby gave you something to make you sleep, slipped it in with your antibiotics. His way to make sure you rested that leg. Not the best idea he's ever had but he was right about that fever."

"Jesus, I'm an idiot," Forester said.

"Well, host of the year he ain't ever going to get, as for Sam. Things might be getting to him and we all wish to god that we could fix things, that ain't your problem though. You ain't his ticket to free therapy," she said as she shoved a thermometer into his mouth. "But Bobby was right, your leg is infected. Don't worry it isn't too bad, sometimes it happens. You been through a lot since you got shot, didn't help.

"Ellen? Who are you?" Forester tried to say.

"I'm the mug they called because you've been dealing with three jackasses," Ellen said before smiling. "They thought that seeing a woman might mean you'd be less likely to start trying to hold them off with a chair again."

"Great!" he replied sarcastically.

Ellen smiled. "Boy, they were right, no wonder they thought you were a Winchester."

"I'm not," Forester mumbled through gritted teeth.

"I know," Ellen replied knowingly.

"I am not their brother; I am not adopted, so in no way shape or form am I a member of their family."

"Right," Ellen said as she sat there.

"The only thing I know about siblings involves only having 5 minutes in the bathroom per day and trying to work out which Jonas brother not to insult this week, not some overly testosteroned, screwed up, insane set up," Dean explained to which Ellen smiled, his shoulders fell. "Seriously, the last time I had anything to do with ghosts was when me and a couple of my buddies jumped out a closet to scare the crap out of my little sister's friends at a slumber party when she was 12."

"Where are they? Your sisters" Ellen asked. "If you don't ask me asking?"

"Why?" Forester said hesitantly.

"It's okay, no-one here is going to hurt them, just me trying to work out what kind of man you are. That's all."

Forester swallowed. "They're just…one's married and the other's just finished high school."

"She going to college?" Ellen asked. As she checked her watch to which Dean nodded.

"Good, 18 is too young to have your options cut for you." Ellen replied. "She's got enough time before she has to deal with the realities of the world, she should be out there trying shit out. What about you – you got anyone waiting for you at home? The boys said something about a girl you were seeing - is it serious? Is she going to worrying about you?"

Forester paled, "I want out, where's my phone." Which Ellen ignored for a few moments before taking moving to look at the thermometer.

"Okay then you don't want to talk. Looks like that fever you had, has broke," she said before turning to him. "Dean, I know you just met me, but you got to listen. I know you're scared, and all this is as confusing as hell to you but working yourself up with a whole load of stupid scenarios ain't going to help you. Not right now."

"Something is happening isn't it?" Forester asked angrily. "Is that why you want to know about my life?"

"It's not like you're thinking but you're right something is happening. A friend of ours called; the one that we caught talked, gave a name, so we got a lead on the one who shot you."

"Really?" Forester said hopefully.

"Now, I know that you wanted us to tell you everything so you'll want to know that the boys are going to go follow this lead up, but that means they are going and you are staying here because you aren't in any fit state to help."

Forester took a moment, looking at the small woman, "And I suppose you are here to babysit me?"

She let out a laugh, "Listen kid, you're too old for that, and it isn't my style."

"So?"

"I'm here to be a friendly face at the moment, but I'm going with them as Bobby had to go do something."

"So you guys are leaving me alone?" Forester asked.

Ellen nodded. "You can go if you want; no-one is going to stop you."

"Right," Forester replied.

"Not us any way," she said prodding his bandaged leg. "But don't think you are going to get far on that yet."

"So?" he said biting back the pain, as she got up.

"We re-bandaged it; cleaned it up properly. Not your fault, you're lucky that you don't have much experience with wounds like that, but that and the fact you ain't rested it means it is going to take longer to heal than it should," she said.

"So you are leaving me here to rest?"

"You got free run of the place, I called my daughter so she is coming over to keep you company."

"Company?" Forester asked.

She nodded, "Babysitting isn't her style either. Her name is Jo, she's about your age, got blonde hair and she likes to speak her mind. Don't mind her if she's off with you, it's me she's pissed at."

"Right," Forester replied.

"Yeah, she didn't like being told to get down here, but it ain't right to leave you by yourself and she'll make sure you'll have anything you need if you decide you to stay," she said handing him his phone. "If you decide to go though, nearest hospital is twenty miles down the road. But you'd have to call an ambulance or a cab, I'll make sure they leave a real number for you if you decide to go as there maybe cars out there and I have heard that you seem to know you way about them, but Bobby Singer don't own a salvage yard for nothing."

He looked down at the phone in his hands, before looking up to see her standing there. He thought for moment, tensing the muscles in his leg, causing the pain to shoot down it, "So you're really leaving me alone here?"

"Yeah, but you'll be safe here."

"When will you guys be back?" he asked quietly.

She shrugged. "Don't know about Bobby, but we'll be back in a couple of days at most. Jo should be here later today."

He nodded, as he noted Sam standing at the doorway.

"I'm sorry Dean, we can't wait until Jo gets here and Bobby took off this morning," Sam admitted. "We have to get moving as soon as we can to catch this guy's trail."

"I understand," Forester said with a nod. "But do you think going after him is a good idea?"

Sam shrugged, "Usually I'd say leave it but seeing how you're now involved. Best we try deal with it."

"How?" Forester asked. "If they believe all the stuff you told me that you've…been through, how do you plan to do it?"

Sam shrugged.

"Don't you worry about that, he'll listen to reason," Ellen said. "If not we'll figure something out. Probably find some way to get him into the same place his friend is."

"Really?"

"Yeah really," Sam replied. "Best plan we have."


	9. Chapter 9

As I reorganised the chapters in this looking like I had posted extra chapters this morning - though I hadn't has lead me to post this next bit so people don't get narky.

Note - As there is no Dean Winchester in this part, Dean Forester is identified as Dean. But will be going back to being Forester when Dean Winchester returns.

Again any mistakes are mine! PLease tell me where I'm going wrong or right especially I am this chapter is essentially the confusion of the blondes.

* * *

Being in Bobby's home was a little strange, well stranger than being a house guest in someone's house in normal circumstances. He hobbled around the house a little frightened to touch anything now that the owner and his 'friends' were gone, especially after his and Sam's little chat.

Jesus, these people if it wasn't the fact that people were trying to kill him, he'd have asked Sam what his shrink thought about demon hunting, but staying here right now – well if they were gone for a few days he could at least clean himself up and grab some food before he decided to leave because Frank was right, maybe the cops were the best way to go – yeah, he'd grab something to eat and then call Frank let him know where he was headed to.

He decided to limit himself to as few rooms as he could, which to be honest wasn't hard the majority of the place seemed lined with Bobby's work whether it was from the yard outside or well, the deranged ramblings of mad men. At least a few rooms seemed to be free of Bobby's books but Dean guessed that even if you did fully believe you were engaged in a battle against the supernatural you would want to have a few places free of it such as when you on the john.

The kitchen also seemed to have been deemed as a spook free space, well the counters had – the bank of phones with different labels and the couple of books on the table looked as if at least the man seemed to try and compartmentalize the collective insanity.

Though for a guy who seemed to believe he was involved in holding off the 'Rapture' Bobby seemed to not have a bad selection in the fridge. When Dean had gone to the thing he half expected to that Bobby lived off vacuum packed sea rations just to ensure he was prepared for the oncoming war.

"Hey you ain't planning on going light on the mustard are you?" the blonde woman at the back door said as Dean finished up the sandwich he was making. Dean turned and looked at her; she stood there with a cocky assurance that seemed to smack of 'I know something that you don't know'.

It was watching Lorelai Gilmore after one of her five minute random conversations with Rory, but taken to a scary degree.

"Now you going to tell me why I was called? Or was it just a test to see if I'd actually come? Because if it was I am going to be upset, I thought we got past all the crap or do you guys just want me to come down here and sit politely in the corner?" she said as he stood there looking her.

"Great, you going for the silent thing as well as tall and dark?" she said.

He rolled his eyes, as he listened to her, remembering that Ellen said that her daughter was pissed at being called down here.

"Well, I don't have all day?" she said as he hobbled to the table. "Are we going to talk, or what? Or is it that you scared that we're going to be interrupted?"

"Interrupted?" Dean asked. "They're gone. I'm the only one here."

"Oh?" she replied. "Fine. So you going to tell me what is going down? Because I have to tell you there are some strange stories going on out there right now."

Dean paled "Like what?"

"We'll get to that, or do you already know?" she asked causing Dean to look away as she peered at him.

He sat down. "What have you been told?"

"Told?"

"Well Ellen said that she called you to come down here," Dean said as he pulled out a chair. "But there isn't any need I'll be out of your hair as soon as I grab this. Don't worry I'm not going to tell anyone about you guys. It's complicated enough as it is."

"Ellen?" the girl said. "Ellen didn't…. Oh boy!"

"Oh boy what?" Dean asked as the girl moved closer to him before she seemed to decide that she could sit in his lap.

"Hey!" Dean said as she decided to make herself comfortable, rapping her arms around his neck, allowing her to get really close rubbing her cheek against his.

"Well isn't this going to be fun," she said whispering into his ear.

"Ehmm…look I, I'm not interested," Dean said. "Whatever you are thinking, I'm not interested. Okay Jo."

"Jo?" she said throwing her head back and laughing.

"Look I get you aren't happy coming here but as I said I'm going and you're good looking and all but I…well can you please get off of me," Dean said apologetically.

She inhaled deeply, before drawing back with a self satisfied grin on her face. She winked at him. "Oh, don't you open up possibilities."

"What?" Dean asked somewhat frightened by the implications of her statement.

She twisted round, picking up his sandwich and taking a bit. "You need more pickle."

"What do you mean about possibilities?" he asked as she turned her attention back towards him.

"It's amazing. I would have sworn that you were Sam. But you're not are you. If it hadn't been for that underlying stink and you have to get real close for that – where the hell have they been hiding you?"

"Stink?" Dean asked before shaking his head. "No, I am not going through this again. No-one had been hiding me anywhere."

"Really?" the girl said raising an eye as she seemed to think of what to say. "Well, doesn't that take the cake? I knew good old Dad was a stupid son of a bitch but Mommy? Even an idiot can figure out if you give birth to more than one at a time or are you saying the drugs were that good back then?"

"Look I've been through this before I'm not…"

"CHRISTO!" came the yell as a wave of water seemed to be flung across the room. The sodden girl screamed as she steamed causing a dampened Dean Forester to fall backwards off the chair onto the floor.

"You bitch!" came to the retort from the first blonde whose eyes had darkened.

"Takes one to know one," the second blonde stated before starting to try and mumble. This in turn caused the first to flee the way she had come as Dean scrambled into the corner of the room.

"Jesus, Sam what the hell!" the interloper said as she started working her way through the cupboards while Dean couldn't seem to make himself do anything apart from watch.

"Sam?" she asked, salt canister in hand. "Sam…what the fuck? You hearing me?"

Dean pulled away trying to haul his giant form further into the cluttered corner of Bobby's kitchen.

"Sam?" the girl asked again as she took a tentative step forward before stopping. "Is this some kind of sick joke?"

"What?" Dean heard himself say as his brain seemed to take in the departure of the steaming girl.

"Because if it is I am not laughing Sam," she said firmly. "Does Dean know? Does he know you're talking to demons now?"

"Demons?" Dean asked confused, turning to face her.

Her face hardened before she moved to pour salt across the open doorways.

"My mom tells me to get over here because I need to play nursemaid to a Winchester FUBAR!" she said angrily. "But this! Having coffee with Demons Sam? Are you serious?"

Dean started to really panic, hyperventilating as he tried to make himself small enough to fit further into the small space under Bobby's sink. She dropped the canister, grabbing hold of him his hands.

"Hey, hey it's okay, it's okay," she said calmly as some of the salt on her hands rubbed against his damp skin. She waited for a moment. "Do you know who I am?"

"Please tell me you're Jo," he replied, swallowing hard enough to allow the words to get out.

She smiled sympathetically at him as she nodded her reply. "You better not be faking this, Sam."

"Dean," he said quietly as she got up.

"He's not here right now, remember?" she said as she returned to her work with the salt canister. "But I'm sure he'll be back soon."

"No, Dean…my name is Dean," he said quietly causing her to turn round.

"What the hell?" Jo asked. "You of all people don't seem to know what a demon is and now you think you're Dean? How hard did you get dropped on the head this time?"

Dean slowly tried to get to his feet; he cradled his side, which he had hurt again due his awkward landing on the grime covered weathered linoleum. "No, I didn't hit my head. Well I don't think I did."

She let out a laugh as he realized how pathetic and beaten up he looked at that moment. "Yeah, sure you didn't. So what happened? What do you remember?" Suddenly a serious look passed over her face. "You better not be faking this as I owe you serious payback for Duluth as it is."

He wasn't too sure what to say to that.

"I will cause you to lose body parts if this is some pathetic joke or part of some scam," she said angrily. "And it will be parts that you are really attached to."

Dean drew back. "What no!"

She thought for a few moments, "Is this some stupid type of intervention? Me and my mom started talking again months ago and you would have known that if you and your idiot brother checked in every once in a while and if it is it isn't – well that is no excuse to let one of those things into Bobby's kitchen."

"I don't know anything about jokes or interventions or Duluth," Dean started to say before focusing back to the point. "No – I'm not Sam."

"Yeah right, you're Dean," she said mockingly causing the angry to flare inside him. He picked up a plate from the sink and threw it across the room, which to her credit didn't cause her to flinch.

"My name is fucking Dean Forester. I am not and never have been Sam Winchester. I do not have anything to do with this whacked out psycho nut job world!" he yelled. "What did you do to that woman – who was she? What was she? And don't you say Demon – I don't need another whack job with as slim a hold on reality as the guy who shot me, telling me that was a demon."

"Sure," she said calmly humoring him, like he was an angry drunk at throwing out time.

"Don't you talk to me like that lady," he spat out. "Demons don't wear cut price fake retro jackets."

She looked stunned. "You know fashion?"

"I've been dragged around enough stores by girlfriends and their mothers in my time to pick up a thing or too." He said in his defense, though it seemed an automatic response at the point, considering the girl in front of held back a snigger.

"They liked to look at expensive stuff okay. So did my ex wife, not that we could ever afford it," He replied causing her to step back.

"You had a wife? When did this happen?" she looked confused. "Your brother sure, I can see him having a wake up in Vegas moment but you Sam?"

He tensed again. "I am not Sam!"

"Sure," she said noting that he was close to a glass at that moment. Instead he seemed to deflate.

"Please," he said as he seemed to start to break down. "I …I don't understand…I can't get my head round…"

"Hey, it's alright," she said. "It's okay."

"No, it's not," he replied as the blood that had been pooling in his hand began to drip onto the floor.

Jo picked up a cloth, sniffing it to judge before pushing it into Dean's hand to stem the flow while guiding him to a chair at the table. "Let's get you cleaned up, okay. Dean?"

"You believe me right, you believe me that I'm not Sam?" he asked. "That I don't have anything to do with this?"

She looked at him at his face, the sincere, tired and terrified look in his eyes that unlike that of Sam Winchester still held a little innocence in them. "Yeah, yeah I do."


	10. Chapter 10

Okay this is rough around the edges as I thought I would prove I haven't abandoned this one while sorting the other part out.

* * *

The pleasant two storey house was something like Karen had always talked about - a nice house away from the yard. Somewhere with a garden for the girls to play in when they came along.

Because she had always wanted girls, two of them – a little tomboy for him in scuffed jeans, car grease on her face with pig tales and a real girly one who liked dresses and bright colors who'd want to bake, play tea parties and who'd twist him round her little finger when she demanded he'd build her a dolls house to compensate for the soap cart her sister had got.

But, that was a long time ago and something he didn't let himself think about often, not usually during work, not when he sipped coffee with those nice suburban families who couldn't understand why bad things had happened to them, and this was no different – grunt work, background checking, dotting the I's and crossing the T's.

Though technically the nasty that had crossed Petey's or Lucy's path had never been, well… them before and like it or not to Dean Forester's family that was the nicest way to describe the shit storm that they had brought down on their boy's head.

And to make matters worse, it wasn't like the Forester home was setup that Bobby could say he saw any faults with as there didn't seem to be any obvious red flags about the family when he walked through the door, not signs of family discord, no furtive looks about them hiding some deep dark family secret, no hidden bottles, no bruises, no broken furniture or obsessively tidy front room. Nothing that made his teeth set his teeth on edge; all of which made him even guiltier about what had seemed to befall the kid.

The father - Randy Forester seemed to be a straight shooter, honest, hard working, owned a small mom and pop store in the heart of this little town. Never going to being a serious threat to the big boys, but liquid enough to provide a comfortable life for his wife and the one remaining kid under his roof. Jesus, he was just like the guys Bobby used to catch a beer with and jokingly bitch about the wife getting on his back before he'd had to learn what real pain was.

"Now I know his friends in Detroit said they saw him a few days ago but I can tell there is something that they aren't saying," Randy said.

"Really?"

"And you guys have hardly been helpful," he said firmly. "All I got when I called in the damn report was that my son's name was on file, but they couldn't tell me why and what that had to do with the damn hospital calling to say that my son had missed a follow up appointment for a…"

Bobby turned his head to see what had caused Randy to stop talking to see the youngest of the Forester kids standing in the doorway.

Clara Forester, a bit moody, he thought. Not her fault, her brother had disappeared plus the teenage edge she had – looked like she had the same screwed up gene as her brother had, hopefully she had gained all the height she was going to get and was now going to fill out a little.

She had tried to be polite when he had shown her his ID but the fear was there, Bobby could see it.

Fear he'd seen in other kids of families he'd talked to when asking about missing loved ones. The same fear that Sam used to try and hide when he got left behind at that age. When SAT's and finals coincided with Wendigos and Banshees, some of which had taken just too long to deal with. Some of which had lead to Bobby getting phone calls at odd hours to be asked random questions about old English spellings for non existent practice questions, coupled with the mumbled frustrated stubborn teenage grumbling that was only stating one real thing _"I'm ready to crap my pants but I'm not calling them first_".

No, he had to stop that, he was…what was the stupid term….projecting. Stupid Dr Phil.

He had asked about family members to be told that no-one in Chicago had heard anything. From a Grandmother to the boy's older sister. A sister who from pictures who had her father's eyes and coloring. Not like the other two, who seemed to take after their… mother.

Balls! He was doing it again. Now that stupid brain of his was now thinking of dates and logistics and no, no, no! This was not the time for it, for feeling emotions about this.

"I understand Mr. Forester," Bobby said calmly, trying to resist the urge to pull off that fifteen buck tie that felt like it was choking him more and more as time went on. "That is part of the reason I've come down here."

"Yeah right," Randy replied with a slight tinge of sarcasm. "Not that I don't appreciate that someone in Detroit actually called someone in the area to come down to talk to us, but you can't really tell me what is going on can you?"

"Mr. Forester."

"My son has disappeared, I've been to his place and his stuff is gone."

Bobby nodded. "Which and I know it is hard, but is a good sign."

"A good sign?" Randy said. "We haven't heard from him in weeks. I know he's a grown man, but he's never just taken off before. It isn't like him."

"Right and you don't know of any reason he'd not be in contact with you?" Bobby said opening up a note book, not expecting to take down many notes, because Dean Forester to his knowledge was still comatosed and drooling on the pillow in his guest room, or the kid had been when Bobby had last seen him, which was twenty minutes after Ellen had decided to stick her two cents worth in regarding the situation and then to top it all, her basically throwing him out of his own goddamn house.

"Anything you could tell me could be helpful, friends you know of, places he used to hang out," Bobby said. "Old girlfriends he might get in contact with."

"Not one around here," Clara said interrupting.

"Clara," Randy said quietly before turning to Bobby. "His ex-wife is now living in Hartford, I think and as for other girlfriends, I don't know about any current ones."

"Didn't talk about them, huh?"

Randy shrugged. "Dean, well liked to keep his private life, private."

"Oh?" Bobby asked.

"It isn't like that," Randy explained. "He just got burned when he was younger that was all, got married to young. I should have stopped him, if I had any sense because… but at the time he seemed so sure it was what he wanted."

This statement caused Clara to snort in indication.

"They…Dean just made a mess of things and truth is, it's taken him a long time for him to start to come back from it," Randy said. "If he ever really will."

"Right, ex-wife," Bobby said noting it. "What is her name?"

"Lindsay, but I doubt she'd want anything to do with him, even if he turned up on her door begging," Randy said. "Not that it makes her or my son bad people it's just they didn't part on good terms."

"Right," Bobby said noting this. "Anyone else?"

Randy shook his head. "Not in town, his friend Kyle swore he hasn't heard from him and as for anyone else."

"There isn't anyone he'd go to, not here," Clara said firmly.

"Okay," Bobby said noting this down. "What about old friends out of town? Anyone he's close to?"

"His work colleagues in Detroit, and maybe…"

"He wouldn't go to Rory, no way would he go there, not now," Clara said interrupting. "Not after last time, not after everything."

"Clara," Randy said tiredly. "I know your brother is over her but the man asked if there was anyone."

"Even if Dean wasn't over her, he wouldn't go to her and you know it." Clara replied firmly as her father got up to pull her into a hug. She tried to hold it together. "He wouldn't. Especially if he was in trouble, he wouldn't want Rory dragged into it, just like if he wouldn't want us dragged into it either."

Bobby took a breath as Randy tried to calm his…daughter. Great he was doing it again as there was no way in hell that he could deny that Dean and Clara Forester were brother and sister, but then again that also meant if you put Clara in a room with…no, no, no focus on the problem at hand and deal with the fallout of John's stupid mess later.

And hell this was going to be one hell of a mess – stupid fuck; if he wasn't already dead Bobby had half a mind to go find the bastard and fill him full of lead. Why couldn't the damn kid just have been adopted! Or even stolen or had been some screwed up lab experiment.

He stood up, holding his tongue to stop himself giving the family the comfort about how the kid was tucked up safe and sound. To say that the girl was right about – well everything so far and if the her brother, well the one she grew up with, continued to show the same the common sense that made him get into the Impala she'd continue to be.

* * *

He found May Forester in the kitchen of the house, where she had disappeared to the minute Clara had yelled that a cop had turned up at the door in an obviously attempt to shield herself from possible bad news – understandable in the circumstance. Though considering everything she wasn't what he expected, not blonde, not petite, not the obvious firecracker waiting to explode given the right ignition – not at all what he expected.

But a kid a year younger than Sam, so could have been two itches to scratch, one of which would probably a hell of a lot easier to satisfy if you aren't thinking of the reason behind why you uprooted your life to pursue the other right in the middle of it.

Though, the girl? You went back for a repeat performance years later? Sloppy, John, real sloppy; even if you made enough of an impression for the 1st kid to be given a name that was possibly mentioned in passing, or was the only name she knew for you? Because you were a green tenderfoot back then and the only aliases you could come up with back then all started with the first two stupid names – suppose small mercy that they hadn't ended up with two identical looking Sams sitting in his kitchen.

Though, the woman was tall, sharing the softer features like he'd seen on Clara and under the fear and denial of what was happening he could see that she was doing the same confused bottled up thing about not being in control, just like her son had been doing, just like Sam…just like John; but thankfully it was pointed in the way that only a middle aged woman worried for her kids can have.

Looking at the scared woman, maybe Dean Forester wouldn't only be safer from hunters by staying in the yard, 'cause for all the fussing that would happening if the kid called his mother, Bobby could also picture that poor kid standing in that kitchen praying that she'd just put him over her knee and take a wooden spoon to his bare ass than have to deal the passive shit she was definitely saving up right now. Though maybe she could let loose on the actual guy who started this – that is if he was stupid enough to let the boys catch up to him.

Because there was one thing that Bobby had learned over the years there was nothing more dangerous than a female doing what she had to protect her young'uns - even if in some cases it was from themselves. Balls, a kid in his twenties with one ex-wife who wouldn't touch him if her life depended on it and a girl that his sister swears blind that he wouldn't drag into this.

Oh boy, so Dean Forester your Stanford was a girl you weren't supposed to touch and in a small town too, no wonder you moved all the way to Detroit to get away from the fallout. The question was how much disappointment behind closed doors did this woman have to show you to make you run?

Well, it was more subtle than demanding you make a choice and kicking you out the door to make sure you stuck to it.

Please God make it that, make it that, because right now was not the time to be trying to put everyone back together…well everyone other than Sam back together, because he'd be the only one who'd probably actually be able to accept the situation. But Dean, well 'his' Dean didn't need this, not now not with months left. Please God, make it that May Forester and John Winchester had a travelling salesman of a grandfather in common and not anything else.

"Ehm, Detective?" May said as she saw Bobby standing in the doorway. She turned to the coffee pot. "Do you take milk?"

"No ma'am, I'm fine," Bobby said as the woman busied herself.

May stilled. "I suppose you would like to ask some questions then?"

Bobby nodded. "Just the same thing that I asked your husband. Do you know anything that your son was involved in or that he would have anyone he'd contact?"

"No," May said before letting out a nervous laugh. "I should have known something was wrong with him when he made those excuses not to come home on the 4th July."

"He didn't come home?"

"I pretended that he really did have other plans, but it was because I went overboard about Clara's graduation," May said. "I kept on going on about his sister going to college."

"And that is a bad thing?" Bobby asked tentatively.

"I should have been more sensitive, I should have…I've known that he always wanted to do something with his life, he just…he just never really had the confidence to do it. Especially, not after his dropping out and the mess after the divorce, the money and not to mention every time he stepped foot in one of those places all he could think about was…" May took a breath trying not to crack under the strain. "And there I was going on about how Clara was getting a scholarship and how her education was important. He must have thought I was so disappointed in him that I was still angry at him. But I not, I…it's hard sometimes being so far away."

Bobby wasn't sure how to answer as the woman reigned herself in.

"As for what he was involved in. I don't know about anything that could possibly cause this," she said.

"Your husband said your boy kept his private life to himself," Bobby said to which she nodded.

"Hazard of big city living I suppose," Bobby said trying to reassure her.

"Yes," she said. "It was one of the things Dean seems to like about living in Detroit. He doesn't say it, but I know he doesn't feel like his whole life was on show there. It's funny, it's one of the things you never really realize when you move to a small town, they say about how everybody knows everything but…"

"Everybody knows everything?"

"Yes."

Bobby nodded as he seemed to read between the lines. "What about friends you know of?"

"There's Kyle. I know my husband has talked to him but if Dean did call and asked him to not to mention it he probably wouldn't have and there are a few others I know he's still in contact with," she said as if she remembered something. "I think he left an old address book in his room. I can get that for you."

"That would be good," Bobby said. "What about girlfriends? Did he have someone or even an ex that he'd go to?"

"Excuse me?"

"Sometimes a mother has a better idea about what's happening in a boy's life than he thinks she does and your husband mentioned an ex-wife?"

May took a breath. "He hasn't been serious about any one that I know about since he moved away. As for Lindsay, well…I actually hadn't thought about her," May said. "I don't think he'd go to her. They're relationship…well it was a mistake for both of them."

"Anyone else?" Bobby asked. "Your daughter mentioned a 'Rory'?"

"She is working away from town right now, but I'm quite sure everybody would have heard if he had been in contact with her," May said tensing. Bobby nodded taking the name down reading between the lines. He scribbled a note beside it _Town Princess or Town Bike_.

"Is there anything else?" May asked. "Have you got any ideas why the hospital called to say about the…they said he'd suffered trauma, they didn't even tell us how bad it was."

"I'm afraid that's an ongoing investigation for the Detroit police," Bobby said getting up. "I've only been briefed about your son's missing person case."

"They didn't tell you anything?" May asked.

"I'm sure if your son was discharged with a follow up appointment, it wasn't too bad," Bobby hesitated for a moment before pulling a picture out of his pocket. "Do you know this man?"

May looked confused before taking hold of the picture, looking at it for a few moments. "Ehm, I…is he involved in my son's disappearance?"

"I can't say that," Bobby said. "But do you know him?"

May thought for a second before shaking her head.

"Take your time, please; have you ever seen this man? Maybe years ago?" he said as she tried to hand it back to him, she took it back and started to re-examine it. "Also, can you tell me about Dean's relationship with his father? How do you feel they get on, Dean and your husband?"

May looked up at Bobby. "Excuse me?"

"Mom?" Clara asked interrupting. "Mrs. Henderson is on the phone. Something about work she said she needs to talk to you right away?"

May nodded before handing back the picture. "I'm sorry I don't know the man, maybe one of Dean's friends in Detroit will be able to help you? But if you'll excuse me."

"Of course," Bobby replied as May made a move.

She stopped turning. "As for Dean's relationship with his father? They may not seem the most communicative a lot of the time but Dean knows that Randy is always there for him."

"Thank you," Bobby said as the woman left.

* * *

"So that is turkey on rye, lettuce but hold the tomato?" the petite waitress said as she took Bobby's order. She turned to one of the other tables. "Stevie, give that back to your brother. I don't care that he said you could have it give it back to him right now!"

The small boy pouted, holding back the tears before handing back the toy back to the other boy at the table.

"You guys babysit as well as serve food?" Bobby asked as the girl rubbed a tired brow.

"Sorry, I'll just get your order."

Bobby smiled. "It's okay, take your time."

"Lane? When is your husband coming to pick them up?" the gruff guy behind the counter yelled.

"Zack said he'd be back in half an hour." she said.

"They yours?" Bobby asked the girl as he looked over at the children as both the little boys started to cry.

"Oh god, Lane!" the man said picking a brightly colored cloth before going to wave it in front of the kids.

Bobby smiled at the sight before looking up at the girl, "They've got him well trained."

"You could say that." Lane replied before bending down a little. "Please don't tell Luke."

"Your secret is safe," Bobby said as the man continued to try and get the two small boys to calm down. He turned again to the girl. "Actually, I think you might be able to help me."

"How?" she said, taking her time to as her boss seemed to be involved in entertaining the two boys.

"I take it you've lived here for a while?" Bobby tentatively asked before coughing. "What, with the fact that you've settled your family here."

"I've lived here all my life," the girl replied causing Bobby to push out the chair before pulling out the badge.

"Lane, can I get a coffee?" Kirk called from his table.

"Get it yourself Kirk," Lane said as she slowly sat down.

"Lane, what are you doing?" Luke asked turning round. "Kirk, you stay there!"

He took a couple of steps towards the counter causing one of the two kids to start squawking again, "Look Kwon, look at the cloth!"

"Give me a minute," Lane said getting up to go to the boys. "Don't toy with Uncle Luke or he won't play with you again."

"Thanks," Luke said before she quietly muttered a couple of words to her boss. Luke turned to look at Bobby before walking over.

"Is there anything we can help you with?" Luke asked.

Bobby cocked his head to the side. "I'm not sure; I'm here trying to get the feel for the place."

"Anything in particular?" Luke asked.

Bobby thought for a moment, before looking over at the girl again. She would have been the right age. "I've just been asked to come down to follow up on a report – about a kid who used to live here. Moved a few years back."

"And can I ask what that has to do with my staff?"

Bobby had to smile; boy did he love small places.

"Just that I figured if your waitress has lived here all her life then she may know him. Could give me some background that's all."

"Maybe I could help?" Luke asked to which Bobby thought for a second.

"Maybe you can," he replied. "I'm just here to ask a few questions about Dean Forester."

Luke narrowed his gaze. "He in trouble?"

Bobby shook his head. "No. Do you know him?"

"Honestly not too well," Luke replied. "He moved away a few years ago. I haven't seen him back here in a while."

"Right," Bobby replied. "So you can't really tell me about him?"

"He isn't in trouble."

"No, I'm just down here to ask get some background about him," Bobby replied. Luke hesitated for a moment before walking over to Lane.

"It's okay, I'll look after them," Luke said picking up one of the boys. He turned to the skinny guy at the counter. "Kirk, one cup from the decaff pot and no more."

"Protective isn't he," Bobby said as the girl sat down.

She nodded, turning back to the boys, "Yeah, how can I help you?"

"Will they be okay?" Bobby asked as he watched the big guy play with the kids.

Lane turned back to Bobby, "Oh yes, Luke's very good with them. I know he might not seem it but he's quiet soft when it comes to the boys. I think if they could they would either live here or…at my mothers store."

"Really," Bobby said looking at the two kids, dressed in almost identical blue and red dungarees. "Twins huh?"

"Oh yes," Lane said. "I know a handful but sometimes it makes life easier."

"How come?"

"Well where you find one, the other one tends to be close behind," she explained. "To be honest, I know some of the books tell you to try and make sure twins or siblings do separate things, but every time I've tried, they tend to…well be a little lost without each other.

"Really?" Bobby asked.

"Yes," Lane replied. "So how exactly can I help you?"

Bobby swallowed as he watched the two little boys. He turned back to Lane, "Ehm…do you know Dean Forester?"

After a ten minute chat and a turkey sandwich Bobby got up to leave passing a tall woman on the way out of the diner.

"Everything alright?" Lorelai asked as she found Luke sitting down with both Stevie and Kwon settled on his lap as he talked to Lane.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Luke asked her. She turned to the busy diner. "Kirk is serving your customers. Please tell me Caesar is still cooking the food."

"I'll get it," Lane said. She turned to Lorelai. "The usual?"

"Extra, extra large," came the reply as Lorelai started routing in her bag.

"What are you doing?" Luke asked as she pulled out her cell.

"I'm not going to make a call," she replied as Stevie stuck his thumb into his mouth causing Lorelai's heart to melt.

"So why you got it out?"

"Oh wait," Lorelai said quickly grabbing Luke's cap to stick on the other little boy's head.

"What the hell?" Luke asked as Lorelai quickly took a picture.

"Oh, it's so cute," she said showing him the picture.

"Get rid of it!" Luke mumbled.

"Oh no, why would I do that?" Lorelai asked. "I think I might send it to Rory and April."

"What?" Luke said as Kwon held onto the cap trying to keep it out of his eyes.

"Or better yet – we could put it on the thank you note, 'Thank you for your attendance at the wedding of Lorelai Victoria Gilmore and Lucas Danes 'sensitive guy'."

"Oh boy," he muttered as Lane started yelling at Kirk.

"Banana pizza? Kirk what the hell is that meant to be?" Lane yelled.

Lorelai turned to her obviously exasperated fiancé. "What's going on?"

Luke took a breath, "She's just spooked after talking to the cop that just left."

"Cop?" Lorelai asked. "What's happened? Lane's Mom hasn't been move real Paul Revere antiques across county lines without informing the historical society again?"

"I would ask you how you came to that conclusion, but no," Luke said firmly.

"Then what?"

"He was here for background information," Luke said before turning serious. "Lorelai, Rory would tell you if she'd heard that someone was in trouble wouldn't she?"

"Yes, of course," came the quick reply. "Why?"

"She hasn't told you that she's had any weird calls?"

"No, she would definitely tell me that, why?"

"The cop was asking about Dean Forester."

Lorelai looked taken aback, "He's what? In Michigan now and Rory well she was passing through Pasadena last week? But, if he had been in contact with Rory, I'm sure she'd tell me."

"Right," Luke said adjusting one of the boys on his lap,

"Is everything okay?" Lorelai asked. "With Dean?"

Luke shrugged. "I don't know but he's a grown man so he's allowed to do what the hell he likes."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Luke looked over at Lane who still seemed a little rattled. "Looks like he hasn't been in touch for a while and his folks are worried."

"He's missing?" Lorelai asked.

"Might be," Luke replied.


	11. Chapter 11

Hello there me again and to those who have been reading this thankyou and I hope you get around to reading this part, even with the bad grammar I have inflicted on you.

Have tried to make it as clear as I can about who is Dean Forester and who is Dean Winchester and only used their first name when there is only one in the room, though if it isn't clear to you, let me know and I'll sort.

Also just a reminder this is set in Season 3 so Dean Winchester is on the count down to hell, Ruby is blonde and the deal with her and Lilith is unknown at this point.

* * *

The rain had been coming down hard for the last three hours, which in a way was a small mercy. The house was secure, so anyone coming to the yard would more than likely not be there to look for salvage which meant shooting first and asking questions later wouldn't bring the police down on her head.

Bobby wouldn't mind either considering he still seemed to have the same contempt to housekeeping as he always had - the dusty old living room hadn't changed; it never did really, books lining the walls, coffee cups and whiskey bottles cluttering the place. Jesus, Bobby really did have a death wish judging by the labels of the cheap gut rot that she could see lying on the floor.

But when did it come to this, when technically she was the last or only line. When did it get to the point where they were so desperate that they had to call her in while demons were circling on what for so many were a sanctuary, a major resource or was the closest thing that could be called home. Or didn't they know, because as much as she'd like to take it as a compliment that they actually trusted her to hold the fort there is no way in hell her mother would have called her to pull solo duty if she knew that Sam…no, Dean Forester was sitting in Bobby's kitchen getting a lap dance from a hell skank.

God she remembered the one sided conversation her mother had had - "_Joanne Beth I know I can't stop you but you promise me that if you are going to do this you be careful, you are starting out so keep it small right now, please. If it feels like it's starting to go that way, you call me and I'll find someone. Please, do this for me, just for now, so even if you ain't sure if it really is an omen of something major - don't go up against it alone." _

But now she was here - Christ, in Bobby's house with only – well he was about useless. A powerless Dean, that seemed to be at her beck and call. Though, it wasn't exactly the right Dean.

"Hey…Dean?" she called through the bedroom door. "You still with me?"

"Sure," came the slightly pathetic voice causing her to sigh as she decided to enter.

"Place is pretty tight right now, so do you want anything?" she asked.

He sat up on the bed, "No, no thanks."

She nodded in acknowledgement. "How is the hand?"

"Actually better than the rest of me at the moment," he said flexing bandaged area.

She sat down next to him, "Good."

"So what now?" he asked to which she shrugged. "Are there more…more like her out there?"

Jo took a breath, "I don't know. But I do know that they aren't getting in here right now."

"Okay," Dean said with a nod. "So let me get this straight; not only do guys with guns think I'm Sam, but so do things that are really from hell?"

"You could always let them get close enough to smell you?" Jo said with a smile. "That's what she said to you right – your smell was different?"

He seemed to crumble a little as he scrubbed his hands through his hair. "Great, I can be the crazy guy who jumps people in the street shouting '_Sniff me, Sniff me_!"

"Well, I can't see Sam doing that," Jo replied quickly, before realizing that was probably the wrong thing to say.

"I really can't go to the cops about any of this, can I?" he asked.

She shook her head, "No, not really."

"I thought that maybe that I'd stay here for a while, that I'd figure out what is going on, maybe find out a name and then I'll work out some way to go to the police and make it all sound less crazy than it actually is."

"You get far on that?" she asked to which he shook his head.

"I thought about calling my Mom to ask about you but then it's probably better if I try talking to you first," she said. "So Dean, you look a little…well beat up. How exactly?"

"You supposed to play nursemaid to me as well as not being my babysitter?"

"No I'm not that," she replied. "It's just I think…."

"I'm not completely stupid I understand why you're really here, they don't trust me not to get into something where I'll end up even more hurt," he said, his shoulders falling as the embarrassment at his present situation seemed to finally set in.

"Not exactly, but I'm guessing they didn't think that anyone would dare try and hurt you here, let alone have a demon turn up," she explained. "They just didn't want you to be alone, that is all."

"Yeah sure," he snorted in response. "We both know why you are here, so please don't sugar coat it. They want someone else here because they don't think I can handle it."

"Okay, if I understand what is happening, right now, if that is why I'm here then they might be kinda right and you know it too," she stated, trying to sound sympathetic. "Especially seeing how you are letting yourself get up close and personal with 'girls' you don't know in Bobby's kitchen."

"Like my love life isn't screwed up as it was," he said jokingly.

"Hey a smile," she said. "See it isn't that bad."

"Yeah, right I just met a real demon woman and it isn't that bad?"

"If she really is a girl," Jo added. "You always really tell by the packaging they take."

"What?" Dean asked.

"It's complicated," Jo simply stated. "But I'm sure when my Mom and the guys get back they'll have some idea of a plan about what to do."

"Like what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"That's helpful," he replied as he started to cradle his side.

"You in pain?" she asked to which he shook his head. "Please don't try and hide it macho guy – I saw you cry less than twenty minutes after I met you."

"Yeah, another one of my finest moments," he said before he moved back a little. "You aren't going to drug me again are you?"

"Rule one – never try and con a con man. Bobby will get you someway somehow. The only good thing about it is that generally he is on your side," Jo said with a smile.

"Been on the receiving end have you?"

"You could say that – old bastard decided to stick his nose into my family business."

"Oh," Dean replied. "I take it that turned out well."

"Well I'm here aren't I?"

"Ehm…are you?" he asked before tentatively prodding Jo in the arm. "Chris…o?"

"It's Christo and I'm not a demon," she said with a raise an eyebrow.

"How exactly do I know?" Dean argued causing her to swat him. He grimaced in pain.

"Oh boy," Jo said as she saw his response. "Right, where the hell does it hurt?"

"I'm okay," he replied meekly.

"Bullshit," she said. "Please god, don't tell me that you're on the verge of bleeding out and been stupid enough not to tell me."

"No," he said as she sat there waiting for him to, "I think I bruised my ribs again, when I hit the floor."

"Again?" Jo sighed before pinching her nose. "Right let me see."

"Hey!" he exclaimed as she started tugging at his shirt.

"Jesus," she said sitting back for a moment. "Please, I want to make sure that it's just bruised ribs. Your virtue is safe."

"That's reassuring," he said as she started to pull up the back of his shirt. "You know it would be easier to look if you just take it off."

"Great," he said as she sat back and waited for him to comply.

"What the hell did you lose a fight with?" she asked as he finally did what she asked.

"About ten feet of asphalt," he replied through gritted teeth as she prodded his side. "Not that it really matters."

"Ten feet of asphalt? She said prodding his side. "And now you're here."

"Yeah, I'm here?" he said as she got up and explained she was going to see if she could find some ice.

"What now?" he asked.

"We sit tight; you heal up and hopefully don't hurt yourself anymore."

"And everything else?"

She hesitated for a moment, before giving him a reassuring smile, "That is why I'm here."

"Great you get to be Kevin Costner." He mumbled.

"I've been called many things but that one's a first," She replied before she raised an eyebrow. "But you do realize that makes you the Diva with a crack habit?"

"I hadn't thought of that," he replied.

She patted him on the shoulder, "I guess you wouldn't have."

* * *

Sam sat in the car quietly as his brother took care of business in the small bar, Dean had been quite adamant about that, well actually he had been adamant about him and Ellen staying in the car, which last all of about a second.

Actually, part of him felt sorry for the guy – a pissed off Dean and a very irritated Ellen. Looks like some shotguns don't need to open their cakehole to get to pick the music. It was almost worth the six hour drive for that alone.

Though his five minutes of peace and calm was definitely about to be interrupted as he found the need to get out of the car.

"Dean!" he yelled as his brother strode out of the bar behind the figure that had now fallen to the ground, though Dean didn't seem to get take any notice of him.

"Dean, he's had enough," he said as he held his brother back.

"Like hell he has," Dean replied.

"Yes he has," Sam said as his brother pushed him out of the way of the blow from the guy who was trying to get up.

"Don't you try and get smart on me!" Dean spat out at Sam as the guy fell to the ground.

Sam looked in the direction of the bar and Ellen who was watching his and Dean's back with a revolver at the bar's entrance. "Dean we better go."

Dean nodded before taking a step to pick the guy up off the ground, "Yeah and he's coming with us!"

* * *

The sun was nice on his face, he'd lost count about how long he'd been in stuck in that house – it felt like at least a week. He hated that, always had since he was a kid, he needed to be outside, he needed to spend some of the day out of in an open space. Even if Bobby's yard could just be counted as a more open space than any of the rooms in that house and he was only sitting on the porch just after sun rise.

"Hello there, she finally let you outside to play with the big kids?" came a voice causing Dean to take a step back.

"What are you doing back here?" Dean looked around; great he was praying that Jo would come out.

She raised her hands, "Hey I come in peace."

"Do things like you come in peace?" he asked tentatively.

She smirked, "Oh you aren't going to go all racist on me are you."

"You're a demon aren't you, well a girl possessed by one like Linda Blair and the pea soup?"

"Somebody has been getting lessons hasn't he? But you forgot about her doing naughty things with crucifixes," she said sticking out a hand. "I'm Ruby and you, according to the grapevine, are Dean or did I get that wrong?"

He nodded, unsure how else to react apart from sticking his hands in his pockets.

"Okay, that's fine by me," she said, moving to sit on a chair by the porch. "You can just take your time getting to know me."

"Why would I want to get to know you?" Dean asked making sure to keep his distance this time.

"Because of my sparky personality, not to mention we can share hair tips," she mockingly replied waving a hand. "You and the waitress been sharing conditioner or what?"

"Excuse me?" he asked.

She stood up reaching for his head, "It's shinier than Sam's."

"Look…lady," Dean said taking a step back to get out of her reach. "I don't get this stuff and I'm not Sam so what ever you are, I'm not involved."

"Sure, you aren't," she replied. "What are you doing?"

He stopped looking around, a nervous smile plastered on his face, "Nothing."

"Are you looking for someone to come and save you?" Ruby asked before she burst out laughing. "With only the little girl here, to back you up?"

Dean clenched his jaw, "Christano! Christanity!"

"Why don't you stop doing that because all you are doing is embarrassing the both of us right now," Ruby said with a shake of her head causing Dean to fall silent. "Look, lets get this straight, I'm just curious big guy and if I was going to skin you alive and wear you as an overcoat I would have done so already. I get it. You feel like you're 15, but mommy keeps putting your favorite Star Wars sheets on your bed – you have a pair but no idea how to actually put them to use."

Dean swallowed. "Right so what exactly are you curious about? Because I'm not part of this I'm not the one who is supposed to lead any army right and as far as I've been told Sam doesn't want to either."

"An army? Oh the gate thing," Ruby replied. "That done and dusted and the guy who thought that one up is well dead as a doornail so that is out the window. As for you, all I know is that no-one wrote you into the script, so I'm came to have a peek that is all. But, if you don't want to talk, don't. Just tell Sammy when he gets back that I called, plus can you tell him that Lilith has heard all about the new arrival as well."

"Lilith?" Dean asked carefully. "Is she one of your 'friends'?"

"Oh yes, me and Lilith, slumber parties and everything," she sarcastically said. "Just tell Sam and his brother when they get back. Trust me they'll want to know."

"Right," Dean said quietly as she turned to walk away. "Hey how did you know my name?"

"Don't you get it?" Ruby asked not turning round. "You're famous now Mr. Forester."

Dean watched her walk out of the yard before heading back inside. He took his time before he found Jo in Bobby's back room looking at some dusty old books.

"Hey," she said looking up from her notes. "You need anything?"

He shook his head, before sitting down in front of Jo, "I just talked to the 'demon'."

"What?" Jo asked getting up from the table, "Where is she?"

"She's gone," Dean said. "She told me she was here because she was curious."

"Sure she was," Jo said, lifting up one of the upturned books to get her gun. "Demons get curious and people find their intestines end up in clear plastic bags."

"She did go but she said she'd be back," Dean explained. "And that I was to tell the guys when they get back something."

"What?" Jo asked.

"That Lilith has heard about me," Dean said calmly. "Who's Lilith? Is she one of these demons or another hunting nut job?"

Jo paled, "She said that Lilith knows about you? Oh holy fuck."

* * *

The peace of the South Dakota dawn was broken by the loud noise.

"What the hell is that?" Dean Forester asked as he yawned, coming to from the rude interruption of his sleep.

Jo was already awake, if anything he could see was that she had probably been awake all night. "It's okay. You stay here!" she snapped before she made a move. He watched as she stopped a few paces from the door to pick up a rifle before she took a deep breath and reached for the handle.

"Hey, what the hell have I told you about that thing!" Dean Winchester yelled as he found himself coming face to face with the barrel of the gun.

"I stuck it in your back last time," Jo admitted as she hesitated for a moment noting the man that Sam was holding.

"Can we get in?" Dean Winchester asked causing Jo to get out of the way.

"Who's this?" Jo asked as Sam Winchester dragged the semi conscious visitor into the living room.

"The douche that started this," Winchester said as Ellen finally joined them. Jo dropped the gun hugging her mother.

Ellen smiled brushing a stray hair out of her daughter's face. "He give you any trouble?"

Jo shook her head as Dean Forester watched the reunion. Ellen gave him a warm smile as both the Winchester brothers tended to their prisoner.

"What's that?" Sam asked as he noted the bucket of water next to the couch.

Forester shrugged, not sure how to respond.

"We had a visitor," Jo admitted.

"Who?" Ellen replied quickly. "Joanne? Is that why you called?"

"You said that Dean was flooring it anyway so there didn't seem to be any point to…"Jo started to confess.

"You called them? Is that Lilith thing really that bad?" Forester asked as Jo tried continued.

Winchester's head snapped up. "Lilith?"

"Yeah, well. I wasn't the first here," Jo said causing Forester to blush a little.

"Who?" Sam asked.

"Ellen said that a blonde girl was coming. I didn't know," Forester mumbled causing Jo to roll her eyes.

"I got rid of her, but she came back. Told Dean here to give you guys a message that Lilith had heard about the situation," Jo said crossing her arms glaring accusingly at both Sam and his brother. "When the hell did you guys let Demons walk in here?"

"Let?" Winchester asked before turning to his brother. "You have her phone number?"

Sam swallowed. "Yeah and yes I called her. I thought that she might have an idea where we'd find this guy. I didn't expect Bobby's contact to get the guy to talk, okay?"

"Great," Winchester said through gritted teeth. He turned to Ellen and her daughter. "Sam's got a repeating case of the clap that he won't seem to deal with."

The man in the chair groaned as Sam glared at his brother. "I'm sorry but I'd like to know why a demon is trying to help us before we get rid of her, plus no-one else is exactly being forthcoming about trying to find ways of keeping you from going to hell!"

Winchester grumbled under his breath as he continued to tie the guy to the chair, while Ellen talked to her daughter about what else had happened since Ruby's visits.

"Ehmm, is there anything?" Dean Forester started to say as he watched everyone else being busy. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No dude, we're good," Sam said.

"Actually, Forester, you can do something," Winchester said as he stood up. "Can you watch this guy for five minutes?"

"Right," Forester glumly said as the others seemed to begin to move to the kitchen. Sam stopped and turned.

"Look that guy isn't going anywhere, so come on," he said causing the others to stare.

"Fine, we are going just chew your ass out anyway for the she bitch. But if you want an audience," his brother replied.

* * *

"And there was me hoping that you were all just crazy," Forester said as he stood by the kitchen entrance while the others discussed 'Ruby' and her news about Lilith.

"Oh yeah, we're crazy," Winchester said mockingly.

"Dean…Bro," Sam interjected.

Ellen ran a tired hand over her face. "So what exactly did this demon do?"

Jo raised an eyebrow looking in the direction of an embarrassed Forester before turning to her mother. "She thought he was Sam, that was until she got close. Turns out you two smell different."

"Our smell is different?" Sam asked looking at Forester.

"Don't ask me," Forester replied. "Then Jo turned up, Ruby left and then the next time I saw her, she just told me to tell you that Lilith knows and that I'm famous now."

"What does she mean famous?" Ellen asked carefully to which Forester shrugged.

"Probably means that the ones that are taking the orders from Lilith are on the look out for him," Sam said as he scratched his head.

"Look out for me?" Forester said swallowing hard. "Why the hell would this Lilith want me?"

"You want the truth?" Winchester asked to which Forester nodded.

"Okay then," Winchester said, pulling a bottle of Bobby's whiskey out of one of the cupboards and passing the bottle down the table. "Well, last I heard she wants my brother's intestines on a stick so best guess she'd probably wouldn't mind doing something similar to you, just to be sure."

"Oh," Forester said.

"Dean, it isn't that bad," Jo said reassuringly.

"Jo, he wanted the truth," her mother said firmly.

"Yeah I did," Forester admitted. "So what do I do now?"

The silence seemed to be deafening and the only response Forester could seem to muster was to lift the bottle off the table, turning to leave the room.

Sam sighed, "Well, what now?"

* * *

"Forester? Dean, you okay?" Jo asked as she banged the door to Bobby's guest room half an hour later. "Come on Dean."

"Go away!" Forester yelled.

"No!" Jo said trying the door handle.

"Hey, I locked that!" Forester said as she burst in.

"Thought you would have worked out that you get privacy in this house when Bobby wants you to have privacy and he ain't here," she said firmly.

"Well, that is brilliant isn't it," Forester said.

"Good, get angry," Jo said. "Better than you sulking."

"I'm not sulking," he answered.

"You been hiding in this room for the past two hours with a bottle, so tell me that isn't sulking!"

"What do you care?" Forester asked before looking guilty. He pointed in the direction of the dresser. "It's over there."

"Okay?" Jo said as she curiously looked at the hardly touched bottle of whiskey.

"Didn't think me getting wasted would help," he mumbled causing her to smile.

"That is actually quite a healthy attitude," she admitted.

"Well unless you can tell me something different then it, isn't is it?"

She shook her head, "Don't think so. Not unless the pooch is totally screwed."

He picked up the bottle and handed it back to her. "Sorry for acting like a five year old."

She looked at him curiously. "Don't do it again then."

He smiled. "Can't promise that."

"They've got the guy to start talking if that is anything? I know it might not be much help with Lilith but we thought…do you want to talk to the guy?" Jo asked.

"What do I say to him?" Forester asked to which Jo shrugged.

"I think that is up to you isn't it?" she replied.

* * *

"Right lets go over this again," Winchester was saying. "Why do you think my brother is evil?"

"You know why?" the hunter said angrily. "We've all heard the stories. We all know he was the last man standing at that little survivor camp. Even if he wasn't the one to turn the key to the gate the fact he was there in the first place isn't good."

"So you admit it was Sam you wanted?" Forester asked as he shuffled in behind Jo.

The captive hunter fell silent for a moment as Forester waited for his answer.

"I don't know,"

"You don't know?" Ellen asked. "You try and kill a kid, because you don't know."

"Ellen, how many did you lose when they took out the roadhouse?" he asked. "How many good people have been lost how many more do we have to lose before someone deals with the fact that Sam Winchester is 'special'? Unless Mr. Forester here is going to admit that it wasn't Sam at Cold Oak."

Winchester took a step toward the guy, only to be held back by his brother. "Dean, please."

"This is getting us nowhere," Winchester admitted. "He isn't going to tell us how many of his friends are looking for Forester here."

"Of course I'm not," the man replied.

"He isn't part of this," Sam said firmly. "Can't you at least tell them that? He has nothing to do with this. It's me okay."

"Sam!" Winchester said.

"Look, he's gone, dead," Sam continued to explain to their guest. "The Yellow Eyed freak that started it he's dead, gone so his plans for me are over okay and Dean Forester was never involved. So you can tell everyone that."

"What you planning to let me go?" the man said surprised.

"Not exactly," Winchester said with a smile. "Not unless you stop being an ass and get your friends to stop shooting at us and the kid over there."

The man took a breath, before looking up at Dean Forester. "Look, I'm sorry. If you aren't part of this, I'm sorry."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Forester asked.

"He isn't going to call them off," Jo said.

"Why not?" Forester asked.

"Because he's a stupid ass," Winchester said causing the man to spit in his direction.

"You think that one devil's plan for you is over because you say it is?" the man asked Sam. "If one devil wants you then there will be others and you may say that you aren't interested in what they offer, but somehow they will get to you. If one got you to play its game then there will be some other one that will work out how to do the same."

"I never played its game."

"Sure you didn't Sam?" the tied up hunter said. "And how many of those other kids got out of that town alive?"

He turned to Forester. "This is war and it ain't much help to you but sometimes to be sure sacrifices have to be made."

"Right sacrifices," Forester replied solemnly.

* * *

"So what do we do now?" Ellen asked as she and Sam returned from convincing the local police that the hunter they had brought with them was not only a danger to himself but others. Thanks to no part the fact that he tried to make a grab for a deputy's gun to put a hole in the servant of Satan.

"I'm not sure but it might be an idea to actually find out how much Lilith knows?" Winchester answered.

"You realized that means that you actually have to talk to her, and be nice," Sam replied to which his brother actually winced in response.

"Dean, you can't actually be serious about talking to a demon?" Jo asked Winchester.

"Ruby is….well she's hard to explain," Sam replied to which the girl just shook her head and left the room to go check on their scared houseguest.

"She's right," Ellen said. "You two are playing a dangerous game even entertaining the idea about talking to one."

"We've got a guy with no idea what to look out for on the hit list of both hunters and demons, if we are lucky, because if Lilith wants to play I don't know what she'll do to him, so you got a better idea about what to do?" Winchester argued.

"No," Ellen inhaled deeply before looking at Sam, "But you be sure that the nut job wasn't right about demons playing you."

Sam swallowed. "No-one is playing me."

"Yeah sure Sam," Ellen said.

"Guys, he's gone!" Jo yelled.

"What?" Dean Winchester asked.

"Dean…Forester. He's gone."

"Why the hell would he do that?" Winchester asked causing everyone to look at him. "Fine, we'll find him."


	12. Chapter 12

Hello again, am putting another chapter of this up for people to digest, thanks to those who let me know that they are still reading this, even with my huge breaks.

Know this one is a little, well different for me and I hope it works for people.

* * *

"You know you are shit at trying to ditch people?" Winchester said pulling up a stool at the dingy bar.

"Wasn't ditching," Forester said refusing to look Winchester in the eye.

"Really?" Winchester asked. "Just that considering your situation, you running as fast as you can and not stopping is the probably the best hope you got right now."

"Wasn't running either," Forester said.

"What were you thinking when you left then?" Winchester asked.

"Just…No-one usually comes after me," Forester admitted as he filled his glass again.

Winchester turned to look over his shoulder to see where Sam was at that moment before he huffed his reply. "Okay, well that kind of sucks for…me."

"How did you know where to look?" Forester asked turning to the guy.

"Honestly?" Winchester said. "Was thinking of checking the bus station but then Sam got a call. And for the record dude – hitching is dangerous at the best of times, but right now you shouldn't be doing it."

"What?"

"Yeah, well turns out that right now you got a demonic bitch who is curious enough about your ass to think that right now it might be more interesting for you to be attached to it in a living breathing sense – not that is something you should feel happy about. Because I'm not happy about her being interested in either you or my brother."

"Please tell me you mean Ruby and not that Lilith, character."

Winchester took a breath, "No, definitely not Lilith."

"Right," Forester said turning his attention back to the glass in front of him. "Though can you tell me if Sam doesn't want to be this leader guy, why is she so down on him?" Or if he's so important can't he get a message to her to tell her to at least leave me alone."

Winchester shrugged. "Never met her, so I don't know, not that I want to, because the demon thing - well, truth is they are Freddy, Jason and all the worst slashing bastards that Hollywood has ever turned out and the scary thing is some of them have got brains to go with it."

Forester downed the liquid in front of him. "So between this Lilith and these hunters, I'm fucked?"

"Basically, right now yeah," Winchester admitted.

"Great," Forester said as he refilled his glass. "Guess this qualifies as the pooch being completely screwed then, doesn't it?"

"What?" Winchester asked as Sam joined them.

"Something Jo said," Forester replied downing another glass. "But then again it is the story of my life one mess right after another."

"Okay then, guess you're allowed to wallow a little," Winchester said as he picked up a glass from behind the bar and proceed to pour himself one from Forester's bottle before finding a glass for his brother.

"Seriously, just when I think my life is sucked because I'm working on a construction site and I'll be stuck there for the rest of my days because as Frank and the guys keep telling me I can't get my shit together – this happens. Not that I'm not saying I don't deserve it," Forester said. "Expected the crap but was hoping that once I finished paying back what I owed, I'd eventually move on."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Sam said.

"Well, it seems I missed the part on the divorce papers that allows karma to be this much of a bitch," Forester retorted.

"Yeah, understand you got married," Sam said downing one.

"I would like to say it was the biggest mistake of my life but it was only part of it," Forester admitted.

"What was with the getting married thing," Winchester asked.

"Dean!" Sam interjected.

"No Sam, I want to know," Winchester replied turning to Forester, "You were nineteen weren't you? So why?"

"Honestly?" Forester said as the drink finally hit him. "You want to know?"

"Yeah, sure?" Winchester replied. "Because I don't get it. Unless you thought you'd actually knocked the girl up."

"Nope, Lindsey was definitely not pregnant," Forester replied. "She wore white on our big day and wasn't lying about it!"

"There are other ways to get laid and have cake dude," Winchester said sagely.

"Then what happened, what when wrong?" Sam asked as he slapped his brother round the back of his head.

So Forester finally finishing the bottle in front of him before stretching over to the one that had just been placed on the bar in front of him and took a deep breath.

* * *

"Okay you stay there," Dean Winchester said sitting the shaggy haired brunette, who had been newly confirmed that evening of just being shy of 6ft 4, on the motel bench.

"Why are you being nice to me?" Forester asked. "I left."

"Yeah, you did," Winchester said as he went and rang the bell.

"But like you guys said you got your own shit to deal with – real shit, real big shit, not like my shit, well the shit I did."

"So?"

Forester looked around him. "And why are we here?"

"Because I ain't driving, Sam ain't driving and I ain't having you puke your guts up in my car while the three of us sleep it off."

"Is that why you took the Tequila?" Forester asked.

"Jose ain't no teddy bear," Winchester replied as Forester pulled himself to his feet and moved towards the counter. "Or something you discuss barber tips with."

"What?" Forester asked as he pulled himself to his feet.

"I hope that was what you were talking to it about or is telling a bottle about 'Pretty Hair' really about something else in New England that I don't want to go into right now?"

"Pretty Hair?" Forester asked as he moved towards the counter. "I didn't talk about her pretty hair did I? But she had really pretty hair."

"Wow big guy, what did I tell you?" Winchester said as he quickly grabbed hold before Forester almost fell.

"I don't know," came the reply to which Winchester rolled his eyes.

"Can I help you two?" the motel clerk asked.

"We want a room," Winchester said as he settled Forester back on the bench.

"And not one that charges by the hour," Forester drunkenly added.

Winchester gritted his teeth at the motel clerk raised an eyebrow.

"You wouldn't happen to have one with two queens and a spare cot would you?" Winchester asked.

The motel clerk thought for a second before looking at the guy who was attempting to curl up on the bench. "That much of a kicker is he?"

"What?" Winchester asked.

"Dean," a semi horizontal Forester said. "You know your brother is climbing on a car out there?"

"What?"

"Sam's on a car, I think he's yelling at people," Forester said as he watched the scene through the window.

"Can you give me a minute," Winchester said calmly to the clerk. He turned to Forester. "You stay and don't go to sleep!"

"No sleep, right," Forester replied as Winchester flung open the door to the motel.

"Sam! Sam! Get off that damn piece of junk right now!"

A minute went by, Winchester sighed. "Sam I don't care, you get here right now…. Don't make me come over there because you know what will happen."

"What will happen?" Forester slurred as Dean Winchester continued to have his one sided conversation.

"Sam, just get over here before you fall and break something…don't you shake that at him." Dean Winchester turned to the clerk "Can you watch the other one for me? I'll only be a moment."

"Why?" the clerk asked as Winchester disappeared through the door.

"But he was small, you're small, all you guys are short!" Sam guffed as he was carried through the doorway.

"Yeah, sure you're king of the land of little people, you are taller than everybody in the room, in the state, on the planet," Winchester said sitting his brother down beside Forester.

"You know, I love having a little big brother," Sam said as Winchester straightened his shirt.

"Sure you do and the hangover you'll have tomorrow will not be blamed on me at all will it?" Winchester replied.

"Nope," Sam said shaking his head, before pointing at Forester. "He started the drinking."

"Didn't force it down your throat," Forester replied in retaliation.

"Stop being so – moody!" Sam said back to Forester.

"Moody? He was the one who had to go on about how exactly my love life could be worse!" Forester protested to Winchester who scowled at him. "Plus, he hogged the bourbon!"

Winchester stared Forester down as Sam seemed to be oblivious to Forester's statements as he fiddled with his jacket. Before he started giggling. "He's moody and short with it."

"Half an inch - you have half an inch on me," Forester said to Sam before turning to Winchester. "Tell him he's only a little taller! She measured us, I don't know where she got the tape, but that girl measured us."

Winchester turned to the clerk. "There was a girl at the bar who wanted to know which one was taller."

"Oh, right" the clerk said as Winchester came back to the counter. "Bummer huh, bet they were fun to grow up with."

"What?" Winchester asked.

"Ehmm, sorry about, you know, when the you first came in I thought…but obviously seeing how they're your… I'm just use to….I'll just" the clerk said as Winchester glared at him.

"Moron," Winchester mumbled as the man went to get a set of keys, he went back to find Sam now lightly snoring as he rested his head on the wall.

"Some night huh?" Forester mumbled.

"Yeah," Winchester replied.

"He fell asleep, you said not to do that."

"Not until you get to the room,"

"Okay," Forester said before looking over at Sam. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Sure why?" Winchester said crouching down to the same eye level.

"He seemed upset when I was…when I said that stuff about how I hated Jess," Forester said. "I know it was completely different situation but I guess just me saying the name and stuff must have not been good."

"He'll be fine," Winchester replied.

"No, but if he was going on about how his life would be different if somebody called Rory hadn't screwed up everything I'd be pissed."

"No, you wouldn't," Winchester replied.

"Yes, I would."

"No and you want to know why?" Winchester asked.

"Why?" Forester replied.

"Because that Rory chick isn't Jessica."

"No, she isn't," Forester admitted.

"She isn't in the same league as Jessica and never will be," Winchester said matter a factly causing Forester to prickle.

Winchester smiled as Forester tried to stand up,

"Why do you say that? You said you only met his girlfriend once and you don't know Rory."

"For one damn good reason," Winchester said. "You don't get to put Rory on a pedestal."

"What?"

Winchester pointed to his brother, "His Jess is perfect and she won't change, she won't get old, she won't get on his back about leaving the toilet seat up, about not buying the right shit from the store. So that Rory girl isn't in the same league as Jess and that is good, you understand? Both for her and for you."

Forester swallowed. "I don't…"

"Your life doesn't just stop because you think you didn't measure up for some girl, wife or girlfriend who is still out there?" Winchester said causing Forester to knot his brow.

"Oh," Forester replied.

"Yeah oh," Winchester said. "Sam's world stopped for a while, but as much as it hurt he moved on, let go enough to do other what needed to be done, yet he still gets to make his Jess the most perfect woman that ever breathed air. But you, you don't get to do that with Rory! You don't get a pass to act like a moron and let everyone continually kick you in the balls because a girl let you walk years ago, a girl who is now doing god know what because she is still out there living her life. You don't get a free ride to sit on your ass and keep feeling sorry for yourself, especially right now; even if that girl gave you the best head you ever had."

"That's disgusting!" Forester retorted.

"You went back how many times? This chick had to have something?" Winchester said as the clerk came back to the counter.

"Number four had a spare cot in it," the clerk said as he handed over the keys.

"Can you walk?" Winchester said as he helped Forester to his feet.

"Think so," Forester said shakily as he turned to the door leaving Winchester to deal with Sam. "It isn't far is it?"

"I hope not," Winchester said getting his brother to his feet,

"No," the clerk said apologetically. "Sorry for the misunderstanding."

"What misunderstanding?" Forester asked.

"Forget it," Winchester replied as he tried to corral Forester through the door.

"What did he misunderstand?"

"Nothing," Winchester said.

Forester stood there for a moment looking at the clerk, "He didn't think that we were together did he?"

Winchester sighed, "Move will you."

"But…" Forester started to say as he was pushed through the door. "Do you guys get that a lot?"

* * *

_Rory smiled gently as he gazed at her "This right here, is - the textbook definition of a perfect moment. _

"_Yeah, it is." _

"_And earlier?" she asked. _

"_That was pretty perfect too. However, as a guy, I was trying not to be a pig," he replied kissing her on her prefect shoulder._

"_And__ I'm happy, are you happy?" _

_He couldn't help it but he was more than that, "I'm very happy." _

_She smiled at him, "Happy, but not chatty? _

_Suddenly that feeling came back the one that clawed in the pit of his stomach. "I'm just… trying to make sure that all this is really happening." _

"_It is." She said reassuringly before reaching over to kiss him. "Hey, you know what I think we need? _

"_What?" _

"_A song. Like a song that's "our song". _

"_Okay." He replied. Hell right now if it was really happening he'd let her commission a statue. _

"_Something romantic, but not mushy, something that will make us remember this." _

_He chuckled. "Ah, believe me, I'm remembering this." _

"_Oh, I know!" she exclaimed before reaching over to her nightstand to loads a nearby CD into her player. "Okay. Perfect. So, from now on, no matter what you're doing, where you are, you'll stop and think of me when you hear this."_

_He laughed as Sammy Davis Jr. began to sing Candy Man. "That's not gonna be our song."_

"_Why not?" she asked. "It's perfect. It's happy. It's hopeful. It has the word 'candy' in it. Hey, what is more hot than candy?" _

"_Pick something else." _

_But it was too late she had began to bob along to the beat, "Who can take the sunrise… sprinkle it with dew" _

"_Okay, okay, okay, okay. I'll pick something else," he said making a half hearted move for the remote. _

"_No." _

"_Hand it over, I can't take it anymore," he jokingly said._

"_This is what happens when the women get the remote, ah-ha!" she said lightly as a noise from outside disrupted them. _

"_What was that?" he asked._

"_Dean?" he could hear Lindsay call from outside the bedroom._

"_Don't worry I'll get rid of her," Rory said making a move._

_He swallowed the feeling of discomfort growing into full blown fear. "Rory don't go."_

"_I'll be back," she said. "I'll be back. When have I ever walked away from you?"_

"_Never," he replied quietly as she smiled at him before making a move._

_He lay back down and took a breath._

"_You know, nothing against the girl but she's, well, she's kind of vanilla isn't she? And I'm not going to comment on the Candyman thing," a voice behind him said. A voice that was close, very close, in fact a voice that was right in the bed beside him._

"_What the hell?" Dean said as he sat upright with a start. _

"_Don't ask me, dude it is your dream," Winchester said._

"_Why are you…why…are you not wearing any clothes?" he asked causing Winchester to shrug before he raised the blanket to look._

_Winchester__ grinned, "Dude, I am impressed with you imagination."_

"_Oh God," Dean said as he put his head in his hands._

"_Hey is it really that bad?" a voice at the other side of him said. "And she seems nice."_

"_Sam?" Dean exclaimed as he seemed shocked to find an extra voice._

"_Yeah?" _

"_What are you…?" Dean asked before lifting up the cover. "Oh!"_

"_Okay then, __we going to pull out the measuring tape now to find out who has the extra half inch?" Winchester asked, he looked over Dean's shoulder causing his brother and Dean to look at him. "What it's his subconscious – I'm not technically here."_

"_Can you guys please…well__, get out of here?" Dean asked. _

_The brothers looked at him, before looking at each other._

"_So that Rory chick what do you think?" Winchester asked his brother._

_Sam looked around the room, at the books at Rory's stuff as he thought of something to say. "Seems okay…but…" _

"_But what?" Dean asked slightly affronted._

"_Ahh, Jess was blonde," Winchester said. "More like Lindsay."_

"_Jess is not blonde__," Dean said, before looking at Sam's face. "Sorry."_

"_Hey, I'd say offending the dream version of me is the least of your problems. You are the one dreaming that has two naked guys in bed with you and not the cute and from what I saw bendy girl and the…wife outside that door possibly fighting over you." Sam said. "What does that say about you?"_

"_Excuse me?"_

"_Isn't that supposed to be my line?" Winchester asked._

"_I was waiting for you to point out the fact that he is putting himself in-between the two of us." Sam replied._

"_Well that is only polite because you know what would you do if you found yourself in be with the double mint twins?" Winchester replied. _

"_Will you stop that?" Dean said as he felt a strong calloused hand run up and down his thigh._

"_Why should he?" Sam asked raising an eyebrow. "Do you really want him too?"_

"_Ehmm, eh," Dean stuttered. "Yes."_

"_Maybe we are selling Rory short?" Winchester said with a shrug. "Do you think he wants her to join us?"_

"_Maybe," Sam said. "Though what about Lindsay."_

"_You seen her?" Winchester asked. "If you are going to rebound – got to admit nice. Not that Rory isn't, if she had a mute button. Though I suppose there are other uses she'd be willing to put that mouth too – hell the blonde too."_

"_Don't talk about them like that! Not like that," Dean said to which both Sam and his brother smiled._

"_Oh come on Dean be honest – how many times did you think about it?" Sam asked._

_Winchester grinned before ghosting his breath over the back of Dean's neck. "Yeah, how many times, you and the two of them in your head, here at that studio in the book store the garage. Hell didn't you once dream about the two of them in the diner."_

"_That isn't any of your business."_

"_What are you feeling guilty about?" Sam asked as Dean grabbed his hand to stop it going under the blanket._

"_Fine," Sam said laying back. "But admit this isn't the first time you want to see if more was merrier, even if it is just in your head."_

"_What no!" Dean protested. "And definitely not like this."_

"_Really?" Winchester asked. "What? You never wondered what it would be like? We can ask you know? They are just as much part of this dream as we are – you can get all of us to do exactly what you want."_

"_Really?" Dean asked swallowing._

"_Sure, you're in control. All you have to do is bring them in here right now," Winchester said. "What do you think Sam? We get to see Rory lose that little princess tag or how good a wife Lindsay was in that department.""_

"_We could do, but if you notice he isn't yelling for them to come in here," Sam pointed out "Maybe he's too shy to ask?"_

_Winchester smirked. "Or maybe he just don't wanna, 'cause he's otherwise engaged?""_

"_Hey!"_

"_Oh, he's getting all het up, the boy here seems to have got some extra energy to work off," Winchester said to which his brother responded by starting slowly work on Dean's neck_

"_See we can help with that," Sam said his hand sinking beneath the blanket._

"_Stop that!" Dean protested as the door opened. Jo entered followed by both Rory and Lindsay._

"_What are you doing here?" Dean asked._

"_To capture the moment," Rory said mischievously going for the CD player remote as Jo started setting up camera equipment. "It only seems right somehow"_

"_Jo?" Dean asked. "You too?"_

_She smiled. "Well, you keep saying you're a grown man and I'm not here to babysit you am I?"_

_Winchester again began to stroke Dean's thigh as Candy Man again began to drift through the room._

"_I just thought it was a shame to waste the moment doesn't it?" Jo said giving the three of them a wink as she pressed record. _

"_But…," Dean replied._

"_Dean you wouldn't want to disappoint anyone would you?" Lindsay asked with a smile. "You never want to disappoint anyone but somehow no matter what you do, don't you?"_

_Dean opened his mouth to answer. _

"_The lady is right, you wouldn't want to disappoint," Winchester said with a smirk. _

"_Damn straight it wouldn't," Sam agreed with a wicked grin on his lips. "Or are you too stuck in the past to try?"_

"_Yeah Dean," Winchester said as he stroked Dean's thigh again. "Why don't you just say screw everybody else, get over all that past crap and really focus on dealing with what's going on about you now."_

"_Why?" Rory asked. "It can be nice to live in the past, sometimes."_

"_And he has obligations to keep," Lindsey said meekly._

"_Like that really matters right now," Sam said. _

"_He's right Dean," Jo said peaking up from behind the camera for a moment as Winchester __worked at Dean's thigh, while Sam started to nip at his neck again._

"_Right about what?" Dean asked, somewhat uncomfortably._

"_Well, look where going on about what happened what you've been doing has gotten you," Jo said, fixing the aperture of the camera lens._

"_Oh please stop being so dramatic about it, it's not the girls fault he's an idiot who can't keep control of anything."_

_On hearing that Dean turned coming face to face with Ruby's blackened eyes and foul smelling smile._

Dean Forester woke up, Sam was snoring in the bed across the room and Dean Winchester was in the cot that he had put up at the bottom of the room.

"Dude what's up?" Winchester asked.

"No, nothing," Forester quickly replied.

"Go back to sleep dude," Winchester mumbled.

"Yeah sure I'll do that," Forester said

"Not tucking you in," Winchester replied absentmindedly as he settled down again.

Forester ran a hand over his face "Tequila, it was just Tequila and that stupid clerk, that's it, nothing more than that."

* * *

A/N if there is any confusion about the dream part with who is who, I figured that as it was his dream Dean Forester should get the dibs on being solely 'Dean'


	13. Chapter 13

**_I know it has been a long time but here is another bit!_**

**_

* * *

_**

"Where the hell have you three been?" Ellen asked the morning after Dean Forester's disappearing act.

"To hangover central," Winchester said as the other two came in behind him, a little worse for wear. "So we'll have two greasy pork sandwiches preferably fried in yesterday's garbage if you please."

"I hate you!" a pale Sam muttered as he found the couch.

"Yeah sure you do," came the reply. "Or do you want to go and do your Titanic impression again, Leo?"

"What?" Sam asked his grinning brother as he got out his cell to show the picture of Sam's antics to Ellen.

"Sure, King of the World now aren't you!" Winchester said with a grin. "At least motor mouth over there didn't decide to join you while you burst into that Celine number last night.

"Cut the bull, I did not," Sam said lying back on the couch.

"Would have," Winchester said with a smile.

"And Motor mouth?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, you kind of decided to get out of the one sided conversation we were having when you decided the robot was more interesting."

"I remember that," Forester said, he looked over at Sam. "Are you usually that coordinated on the dance floor?"

"Blow me!" Sam grumbled causing Forester to blush.

"How you feeling? You moving okay?" Jo asked Forester as tried to make himself smaller as he stood in the corner of the room. "Dean, are you okay? You still moving, okay?"

"What?" Forester replied.

"How are you feeling, Forester?" she asked again. "How's your ribs or your head?"

He shrugged, not sure what was making him more embarrassed at that moment, the heavy metal band in his head, the fact that he was being brought back here with his tail between his legs. He bit his lip. "I'm okay, I suppose – they are about the same."

"Good. Don't want to hurting yourself again, do you?" she replied causing him to give her a shy smile

"See we took good care of him," Winchester replied. "Even made sure he was tucked up last night."

"Glad to see you're all back, though," she said with a nod before her mother addressed them. "Bobby's been looking for you guys."

"He back?" Sam asked.

"Got back late," Ellen said. "Been quiet."

"No idea what he is thinking, huh?" Winchester asked to which she shrugged. He nodded making a move towards the kitchen while hitting his brother. "Come on Sasquatch."

"Great," Sam said slowly getting up to make a move.

"You too," Ellen said addressing Forester.

"Me?" he asked. "Why?"

"Maybe he's found something out to help you," She raised an eyebrow, "But don't look like you've lose the use of your legs, so why don't you go ask the man."

"Okay," Forester said as he started to follow the other two.

Bobby was standing at his kitchen counter reading a pamphlet that had come from a box that was sitting in front of him.

"You have a good time at wherever you disappeared to?" Winchester asked after a moment of silence.

"Yep," came the curt reply.

"And are you going to tell us?" Sam asked.

He didn't even look up, "Nope."

"Do you want some privacy?" Forester asked, not to sure what to say.

"No," Bobby said.

"So, you know we found that guy?" Winchester said with a scratch of his head. "Isn't willing to call off the dogs but we kind of – well, county psyche should be providing his care for a long while."

"That's good," Bobby said as he picked something out of the box.

"I suppose you also know…."

"That Sam called Ruby and she's been sniffing around my yard?" Bobby matter a factly replied. "Yep, been told."

"And you have nothing to say on this?" Winchester asked causing Bobby to turn round.

"Someone owes me 500 bucks plus postage and packaging," he calmly said.

Sam automatically went for his wallet before stopping. "What, why?"

"Because you do," Bobby said handing the boy the pamphlet before going for the coffee pot.

"No, no, no, no!" Winchester firmly said as he caught a glimpse of the piece of paper.

"Yes," Bobby said.

"What is it?" Forester asked as Winchester followed Bobby out the room.

"I thought we had already gone over this," Winchester said firmly.

"We hadn't finished it," Bobby said.

"Yes, we damn well have," Winchester yelled, before pointing in the direction of Forester. "He is not my brother."

"How the hell can you be so sure?" Bobby asked.

"I am not going over this again – they didn't being 2 babies home and he's younger," Winchester argued.

"So he ain't Sam's twin, but over a year younger? Still means he could be your blood doesn't it?"

A tense silence descended as both Sam and Forester looked at each other.

"So now I'm what exactly?" a confused Forester asked before a light seemed to go off in his head. "You are way out line pal!"

"Maybe I am," Bobby said calmly. "But then again there is easy way you can prove it."

"He ain't proving anything – he isn't part of my family." Winchester said. "I'm sorry the shit is coming down on his head but he is not a member of my family so you can take you mail kit test and shove it up your ass."

Bobby took as second before looking in the direction of the other two. "You guys happy about that?"

Sam suddenly got interested in the floor.

"Not that it is going to say anything we don't know, but I'm up for it," Forester said.

"If you are so sure then why the hell do want to do then?" Winchester asked.

"Because then its over with, then I can deal with the people who want to kill me instead of going over and over the fact that we aren't related and it means that Bobby here is going to apologize because no way in hell am I your 'half' brother," Forester said.

Winchester took a breath, understanding Forester's sentiments. "So what you think Sam?"

His brother looked up, "Dean?"

"Fine, hope you all god damn choke," Winchester yelled storming out of the house.

"Great," Sam said rubbing his tired throbbing brow.

* * *

Sam found him outside in the yard about three days later, "Where the hell have you been?"

Winchester shrugged, "Went for a drive."

"Really? That is a lot information," Sam replied.

"Well you asked."

"So you want to talk about this?" Sam asked to which his brother just shook his head picking up a bag from the front seat.

"Dean, we got to talk about this," Sam argued.

"Why?" Winchester asked. "Thought the two of you had made up your minds."

"Don't be like that," Sam replied as he followed his brother into the house.

"You took your time," Bobby said as he saw Winchester.

Winchester shrugged. "Had things to do."

"Like what?" Bobby asked to which Winchester took a couple of bills out of the bag.

"Should cover it," Winchester said walking over to where Forester was sitting with Jo, "Here."

"What's this?" Forester asked, looking in the bag.

"Consider it compensation," Winchester said.

Forester looked up, "There…there has to be about 10 grand in there."

"Actually nine," Winchester said. "Needed some gas money."

"What, why…how?" Forester stammered.

"Let's just say those who are interested in you, that are now on vacation, decided to chip in on the emotional distress fund," Winchester replied.

"Dean?" Sam asked as he watched his brothers face.

"I didn't rob a bank – had the guys address didn't I, emptied his savings account that's all, figured he owed Forester here at least that," Winchester said as he left.

"Wait here," Sam sighed as he went to follow his brother. Forester stood up putting a hand up to stop him.

"No! I'll go," he said moving to follow the path Winchester had gone on.

"Hey!" Forester yelled. "Hey asshole!"

"What?" Winchester said turning round, to which he found the bag of cash flung at his feet.

"You think it is that easy?" Forester asked. "You think a bag of cash will pay for the shit that I've been dragged into because of you?"

"I didn't drag you into anything, but if you don't want it," Winchester yelled back.

"I am not just going to disappear now," Forester said.

"I never expected you would," Winchester said.

"No, but you were hoping and don't say you weren't," Forester said back to which Winchester didn't answer back.

"Well I'm not okay, get that straight," Forester said. "Money or not, I'm not going anywhere."

"But isn't that what you do? Take your sweet time to work out that there might be a problem and then walk, before using it as an excuse for the rest of your life?" Winchester said mockingly.

Forester clenched his jaw. "Even if I was going to, I don't have any idea where the hell I'm supposed to go."

Winchester picked up the bag, before moving to shove it in Forester's hands. "Take it if you want or don't, stay or don't stay, see if I care."

"I didn't ask him to buy that test, did I?" Forester reasoned to which Winchester stopped.

"I'm with you, someone out there had a sick joke at mine and Sam's expense that is all," Forester said.

"I know," Winchester replied. "I just don't have time for this."

Forester swallowed. "Do you think I do?"

"That isn't what I meant," Winchester replied. "As for the cash – it's clean; it really is from the guy that was here."

"You take some guy's life savings and you say it's clean?"

Winchester raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Well, apart from everything else he's hardly in the position to complain is he? So it's up to you it either goes to you, or I don't know, seems right you decide somehow."

"Oh," Forester said holding on to the cash watching Winchester make a move to go back to the car. "We haven't done anything about the DNA thing if you want to know."

"Why not?"

"Somehow it didn't seem right," Forester replied. "Sam…he didn't think you'd appreciate doing it while you weren't here."

"Like me being here really matters," Winchester said before grabbing his duffle out of the car and heading towards the back of the house leaving Forester standing alone in the yard.

He stood there for a minute not sure what to do.

"So is it Disneyland or are you thinking that you maybe you should buy a bus ticket to LA and try your luck as a waiter to the stars?" came a voice behind a busted up pinto.

"What do you want?" he asked as Ruby walked out to pick up the bag.

She let out a whistle. "Bet you never seen nine gees before. Not these days. All credit cards and money going straight in or in your case out of your bank account unless…no you don't seem like the Atlantic City type – but hey I could be wrong."

"I asked you, what do you want?" he asked hesitantly.

She smirked as she watched towards him handing him the bag. "Don't you get your panties in a bunch. I'm just here to talk to the grown ups – but you can listen in if you want."

He wasn't too sure as she started to walk off.

She stopped after a few steps, "So you planning to stand here or are you coming? I'm using small words for Shortbus so you'll be able to understand what is going on to. It is you I'm going to talk about you know."

"Yeah?" Forester said after swallowing trying not to show his nerves.

"Well you can stand here, Rain man if you want. I'm sure they'll come out and tell you 'everything'." She said starting off again.

"My name is Dean Forester," he said through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, well Shortbus hasn't got much in his life and he is older so I'm guessing he's got dibs Missing Winchester," she said as she knocked the door.

"Then call me FORESTER then or is that too hard for you," he retorted.

"Fine, but ain't you a bundle of fun," she said looking up at him as he stood his ground. She blinked causing him to take a step backwards.

She let out a long belly laugh, looking at him through blackened eyes while he regained a little composure.

"….."

"Don't strain yourself, big guy," She said with a sigh, her eyes returning to normal as the door to the house opened.

"Oh great," came the hiss.

"Hello Bobby and how are you doing?" she said as she brushed past him.

* * *

Forester stood in the corner of the room as he watched the discussion, how Ellen had almost busted a gut with the sight of the woman in Bobby's kitchen. Sam trying to calm things down Bobby standing there about three feet from a shotgun that Forester hadn't really noticed until that point while Ruby just seemed to roll with the commotion she had caused.

"So you sure that Lilith has heard about this?" Sam asked.

She nodded. "Yep, from what I heard she is laughing her pants off. Thinks it's a complete hoot."

"She thinks this is a hoot?" Ellen asked.

"Hunters at each others throats more than usual over a nobody?" Ruby snorted. "Course she thinks it's a hoot, wouldn't you?"

"Oh this is just one step away from being a pilot on comedy central," Winchester said.

"Really, does that make me the hot neighbor?" Ruby said taking a step towards the coffee pot only to stop as the majority of the room stiffened. She sighed. "What I'm good enough to bring information but not good enough to drink your coffee now?"

"When I hear Dr King's corpse has arranged a million demon march for you and then I'll think about it," Bobby replied.

She smirked at the comment, causing her to turn to Sam.

"Look, I know you might not like the idea, but he might be useful," Ruby said causing Forester to be confused.

"Hey we don't do that," Jo said. "You might but we don't."

"Don't what?" Forester asked before looking at everyone. His shoulders fell. "Oh."

"Ruby no," Sam said tiredly.

"You have other things to worry about than protecting some guy, who had no real idea of what is on," Ruby said. "Might be for the best you cut him lose or…"

"You were told no," Winchester said.

"Does your voice still count?" she asked. "Because I'm talking to the people with a long term goal here."

Winchester stood up abruptly – his chair flying backwards.

"Ruby, I understand you are trying to help but no we aren't using him that way, not as bait," Sam said getting in his brother's way. He turned to the demon. "Do you know where she is right now?"

She shook her head, before turning to Forester. "Okay, if you aren't going to be actually useful, do yourself and Sam here a favor – take that bag of cash you got and go see a cheap surgeon. Hell better yet, place a couple of G's on a bad college team and hope the bookie lets you keep your sight and you can pocket the rest."

"Oh that is helpful," Jo said.

"I'm not seeing you come up with any other ideas on keeping the guy alive," she retorted she turned to Sam. "I'll be in touch if I hear anything."

"Same for us," Sam said. "And Ruby thanks for letting us know about, you know."

"Sure, but Sam," Ruby said turning to leave. "There are things to get your ass killed over, but some guy that looks like you, who you feel sorry for isn't one of them."

"Get out," Winchester said coldly.

"Hey, you'd know I'd be lying if I said that there aren't those out there who are a little curious about him and how he much is 'really' linked to you guys," she said causing the room to exchange looks at each other. "Not to mention how much collateral damage hunters will do if they think it means they can get to him."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Forester asked.

"Please," Ruby replied. "I'll let them explain the details to you – but I'm telling you right now it's folks like them that are more of a danger than Lilith is to you and your family right now."

The blood drained from Forester's face as Ruby left.

"What does she mean?" Forester asked.

Bobby ran a hand over his face. "She's just sounding off."

"No, what does she mean?"

Sam took a breath, "She means that even though there is only a couple of them after you. Hunters tend to have long memories, you understand?"

"So there isn't any hope that they'll just forget about me?" Forester asked.

Bobby walked over to him, "Look there is always another hunt, another thing that crosses their path."

"Don't sugar coat it for him," Winchester said cutting in. "The bitch is right, Lilith wants Sam, not him. She'd only use him as a chew toy if she gets her hands on him. She won't be spending any resources to do any damage to his family, unless she's got a real reason too."

"My family?" Forester asked. "What about my family?"

Winchester sighed as the rest of the group stood in silence. He ran a hand over his face before focusing his full attention on Forester. "You got douches on your tail, who don't know what is what. You said that your friend got questioned by fake cops which were probably them and they've been to your place, so they've got a handle on you, and your family. That means when they couldn't get their hands on you, because they ain't going to go for you here, they might have asked some of their friends to be sit outside your folk's house incase you show up and if they get any idea that you've even just called, they won't be asking your mom and dad nicely for your contact details – do you understand?"

"But…" Forester started to say, before falling silent.

"Christ Dean," Jo said to Winchester as she noted the distress on Forester's face.

"Come off it," Winchester said. "Tell the guy the truth, he deserves that at least."

"What truth Dean?" Sam asked his brother as the rest watched on.

"That unless he is going to cut up his face and go into witness protection, he is royally screwed."

* * *

Ellen found him throwing his clothes into Bobby's archaic washer.

"You are out of order boy," she said hard causing him to spin round. "You could have at least given the guy something to hang onto."

"Like what?" Winchester asked. "Tell him that if he just lies low for a couple of weeks that hunters and demons will all collectively decide to leave him alone?"

"You don't know that they won't." she said calmly.

"Yeah, and excuse me while I pull a rabbit out of my ass!" came the retort.

"Then cut him loose."

"You know what will happen if we do that."

"Then do something," she said.

"Like what?" he asked. "I left my magic wand in my other jacket."

She held herself back for a moment. "Look, you and your brother brought him here, what do you expect the rest of us to do? Hide him for the rest of his life?"

Winchester shrugged as he went back to sorting his laundry.

"That ain't going to happen is it?" she said "This is your family's mess, not mine."

He threw down the pile in his hands. "This has nothing to do with my family and like it or not, I don't have time to babysit him either or have you forgotten that?"

"No," she said. "But he looks like one of yours and yes I said yours, because last time I checked, your father is gone so that makes you head of your damn family as small as it is. Sam is taking your lead on this after his little unloading act and as for Bobby; he is backing off since you decided to sulk like a five year old when he suggested that test."

"So what do you want me to do?" Dean asked. "You think that we should take that test?"

Ellen swallowed. "No, I'm not saying that."

"Then what then?"

"I don't know, but you agreeing with a demon in front of everybody sure shouldn't be it," Ellen replied. "And what the hell are you doing letting her get so damn close in the first place."

"I don't know, Sam thinks she can help," Winchester admitted. "It makes him feel like he's doing something and I can't…I can't take that...

Ellen inhaled, moving to put an understanding hand on his shoulder. "That doesn't mean you got to take it out on Forester there."


	14. Chapter 14

"So what are you planning to do with it?" Sam asked as he found Forester in the wrecking yard as he went to get the mail.

Forester quickly put down that the bag that he had been holding causing Sam to hold back for a second.

"Look man."

Forester got up from his seat, backing off from Sam. "It's okay. I'm fine, you can go back and tell them I haven't run away again or hurt myself, because really Jo, not that I'm saying anything against her but nursing shouldn't be a good career option."

Sam nodded, he had to appreciate the fact that the guy was trying to keep it light. "I wouldn't really know about that."

"So I'm fine, you can tell them that and when I work out what the hell to do I'll…"

"We aren't going to throw you to the dogs," Sam said interrupting him.

Forester took a breath.

Sam scratched his nose. "Yeah, sure what is happening here, we didn't expect it, expect you but we aren't about to use you to buy time with Lilith, to let you …."

"Not go gently into that good night?" Forester replied sarcastically.

"I…isn't that a poem?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, well I liked Dylan Thomas, one of the few poets I read that I did."

Sam took a breath, not sure how to answer.

"And I can rage, rage, against most things when I feel like it, so I think I'll do fine, when I work out what to do about this. So you don't have to feel guilty about anything, about what your brother said or what your…whatever she is, said or about any of it," Forester said with a smirk as he started to limp away.

"Forester," Sam yelled causing him to stop.

"I said, I'm fine, I'm not going anywhere, not yet anyway though when I do go I'm sure when I do I'll be fine," Forester said before his resolve hardened. "But, if you do decide to hang me out to dry, at least do me the courtesy of getting it over with or telling me that I'm going to be 'helping' you find this Lilith that is so curious about me."

"You don't want that," Sam replied.

"I kind of already knew that, but I'm screwed aren't I? And Ruby did say that I could be useful in some way, so even though you are saying now you won't how can you be so sure that it might suddenly become a good idea?" Forester asked sarcastically. "It isn't like you really owe me anything is it? YOU didn't start this."

Sam bowed his head. "Dean, we..."

"Don't do that?" Forester said incredulously. "Don't tell me that you guys don't sacrifice other people to get yourselves out of jams?"

Sam straightened. "What?"

"You tried to start explaining it to me then I freaked out, plus; well I thought I was a lousy drunk but you?"

Sam looked at him confused.

"Before we started the trip down girlfriend lane – when your brother went to the restroom?" Forester explained. "The whole 'man I don't know what to do speech'?"

Sam suddenly wanted to look the guy in the eye, "I never asked him to do it, okay. I never wanted to him to do or expected him to do any deal for me."

"Really?" Forester replied. "Hey, you never thought that if this Lilith is such a big deal you using me to flush her out might help your brother somehow?"

"I didn't know, I didn't know until after," Sam angrily said. "Just like I didn't ask for you to look like me or for hunters or demons or any other of the crap that has happened to you lately to happen."

"Yeah right, and you're the same as me – just some poor schmuck. No wait you're the guy that got picked on to lead the demon world," Forester said.

"You think I wanted this in any way?" Sam asked angrily.

"How the hell do I know?" Forester replied. "All I know is I'm screwed no matter what I do - your brother throws cash at me to make me go away even though you guys tell me that I'm fucked if I leave here, that is unless I cut my face up and never talk to my family again; because that will put them in danger. Not to mention that your friend is convinced that if I'm either your twin or that your Dad screwed my mother!"

"He didn't say that."

"That is what he meant!" Forester replied. "So sorry Sam, if I don't know what you want or what the hell you are or really trust you right now even if I got no choice but to stay here."

"I didn't ask my brother to give up his life to save my skin and I wouldn't ask anyone else to do the same. We aren't going to just dump you or use you, even he's got less than six months to go and we don't really have time to deal with this crap" Sam said.

"Crap? People are trying to kill me because of you and you think it's crap?" Forester retorted. "Fine, it is a bunch of crap what is happening to me, because you could probably just figure you way out of it in five minutes. But just remember that unlike you and your brother, I didn't walk into this thing with my eyes open."

"Well I didn't either!" Sam retorted. "You think this sucks for you – I've been stuck in this since I was six months old and the one time I tried to get out, people died because of me; and not people I didn't know existed before my brother found them, people I cared about, the girl I loved died. So where the hell was my choice in any of this?"

Forester stood there not replying.

"You think that I'm what they say I am? Then why the hell would I even try to help you, when what I should be doing is trying to save my brother?" Sam asked. "You think that if I was what they say that I'd be standing here? That I would have had to look for the bastard that killed Jess or my Mom? That I wouldn't have just snapped my fingers to bring them back? To find the one that has Dean's contract. That if it would get me what I wanted that I wouldn't have served you up already?"

"Wouldn't you or is it that you are just in denial about what you are?" Forester asked. "You seem to be the only one that…that Ruby was really talking to in there, the only one she was listening to. Don't you think there is a reason for that?"

"I don't know what her end game is at the moment and the best way to find out is to keep her close."

"Really? And I suppose she hasn't offered to help you find a way to help your brother?"

Sam took a breath, "Honestly man, I'm grasping at straws trying to work out how to keep him alive as well as trying to get you out of this mess?" Sam asked to which Forester responded with stony silence.

"I'd go to hell in his place if I didn't think that he'd come after me, just to kick my ass and Dean, he isn't exactly helping right now. It took him to a months to say that he actually didn't want to go to hell, but lately every time I think I'm on to something he starts going on about it's stupid and a done deal and I know he's just scared that I'll go down in his place and the only one that is actually helpful is a demon," Sam seemed to start unraveling as he started shaking the package in his hand. "But right now all I can actually do about all of this is pick up a damn vintage shock absorber for a 1967 Chevrolet Impala that I bought off eBay for him, because you pointed out that that one is the way out and Bobby wasn't sure he had one that would work in the yard. So sorry if I can't come up with anything that will make you believe that we are not going to hang you out to dry! Because I've got other more important things on my mind and boosting your fucking ego is way down on my to do list."

Forester took a calming breath before glancing about him. He hesitantly took a step towards Sam. "Okay, can we stop this before we get the whole Superman 3 thing?"

"What?"

"Ehmm, the whole I get angry, you get angry in the junk yard?"

Sam looked around the yard before letting out a laugh.

"Because I'm not saying either of us are Superman or Clark Kent but I'm thinking even without me feeling like shit, it's going pretty much be a one sided fight that I wouldn't get up from anytime soon," Forester said.

"Excuse me?" Sam asked.

"The way you and your brother handled yourself back at Frank's place not to mention how beat up that guy was, the one you brought back," Forester said.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, so why don't we both just cool off," Forester said. "And that way, I stay in one piece okay – not that I wouldn't get a few in before…well you know."

Sam ran a hand through his hair. "Look I don't know what I'm doing."

Forester sighed. "Guess talking to me is like…well talking to a mirror?"

"I guess," Sam replied. "For some reason…."

"You can't pretend too much with a mirror, can you?" Forester asked to which Sam shrugged.

"Well, mirror or not I would like not to get into a fight because of it."

"And I suppose that wouldn't have anything to do with you not wanting to have Jo looking after you again?" Sam said to which Forester swallowed.

"The conversation and the company I'm not complaining about but…she isn't exactly gentle about ripping off dressings," Forester said.

Sam shrugged, "Trust me, better than Bobby do it. At least you have a pretty face to distract you, and not the general 'suck it up or I'll sock you one'."

"I'll take your word for that," Forester said taking a step forward hand out to Sam. "Can I?"

"Sure," Sam said handing over the box to which Forester opened and examined.

"Classic performance?" Forester said looking at the part. "Where did you get it?"

"Place in Pittsburg sent it – said it was double adjustable in the ad."

"How much?"

"230."

Forester scratched his head. "I take it neither your brother nor Bobby knew you were doing this?"

Sam shook his head. "Thought it would be a surprise."

"And let me guess you have no idea how to fit it?" Forester asked.

"Why would you say that?"

Forester gave Sam a sympathetic smile. "Because if you did, you'd probably know that you could have got one just as good for a lot less than what you paid for it."

"What? How much?"

"You really want to know?" Forester asked to which Sam shook his head.

"I'm guessing no," Sam said.

"Right and what were you planning to do when it turned if you didn't know what to do with it?" Forester asked.

"I don't know," came the reply. "The basics sure I can do, change the oil and a tire, clean heads and stuff. But most importantly I know enough to know to stop before I do more harm than good – I'm the black sheep of my family when it comes to that sort of stuff."

"These days probably all you need," Forester said. "Plus triple A."

"In another situation I'd say yeah, but…" Sam started to say.

"Mint condition Impala that doesn't just get a rag drawn over it on a Sunday?" Forester asked.

"Dean likes to try and keep her running as close as she was when she came off the line and my Dad was the same."

"And you missed out on that mechanic gene?" Forester said with a smile. "Guess they another reason to think that you were the son of Satan?"

Sam snorted his amusement before scratching his head. "Yeah, kind of made me stand out a little because I didn't think everything that was mechanical could be improved by adding a V6 cam shaft."

"So, the hunting and occult crap wasn't always what you guys did?" Forester asked carefully.

Sam shook his head. "Dad was a mechanic."

"So was mine back in the day," Forester admitted before cracking a smile. "But he then decided to get out too, but he opened a stereo store."

Sam couldn't help it, he just laughed as did Forester.

"So I'm guessing you don't get under the hood too much?" Forester finally got out.

"Not unless he's really out of it," Sam said. "Truth is, it wasn't that I can't do it – it's just I wasn't exactly interested in learning, when I was a kid. Always used the excuse that I had homework or something to read."

Forester cocked his head to the side. "A bookworm, who doesn't really know his way under a hood? Where have I seen that before?"

"A bookworm who you admit can kick your ass," Sam pointed out.

"True, but I have to say the last one, he tried to a couple of times and it didn't exactly go his way."

"But he got the girl right?" Sam asked.

Forester shrugged taking a few steps towards the Impala. "Only for a while."

"Really?" Sam asked. "And you didn't do anything?"

"It was high school and actually he did most of the blowing it on his own" Forester said with a smile. "Do you want me to tell you how to fit this or do you want me to do it?"

"With that leg?" Sam asked.

"I can get under her, though would your brother be happy at me touching his car?" Forester asked.

"He'd probably try and kill you out of principle."

Forester stopped handing the thing back to Sam, "You say that you were capable right?"

"I…."

"I'll talk you through it."

"How do you know so much anyway? If you don't mind my asking?" Sam said. "From what I saw in your apartment I thought you were a carpenter."

"As I said my dad was a mechanic," Forester said with a shrug.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, so was mine. That means jack."

"Well unlike some people I always liked cars so I listened when my Dad talked; even rebuilt one when I was a teenager."

"Really?"

"Yeah, just a junker – but she turned out all right."

"Wow," Sam said sounding impressed. "What happened to it? You sell it?"

Forester stopped. "Gave it to Rory."

"Way to score points with a girl," Sam said.

"Yeah, and then the bookworm who didn't know much about what to do under the hood happened."

"He stole it?" Sam asked.

"The two of them went on an ice cream run," Forester explained. "Totaled it."

"And you went out with her after that?" Sam asked to which Forester shrugged. "Okay teenage hormones aside you must have had it bad."

"Kinda always will," Forester admitted to which Sam gave a sympathetic nod.

* * *

"Where is Forester?" Winchester asked Bobby who was standing watching.

"Performing miracles," Bobby said with a smile.

What is that supposed to mean?" Winchester asked causing Bobby to nod over at to car.

"What the hell is he doing?" Winchester asked as he saw the pair of legs under the jacked up rear end.

Bobby put a hand out to stop hold stop Dean bursting into a run, "Watch."

Someone limped round the front to hand the other a tool from the chest.

"Okay, I'll change that – what the hell is he telling Sam to do to my car?"

Bobby shrugged. "How the hell do I know? But when was the last time your brother willingly got under an axle without looking like he was sucking a lemon?"

Winchester stood there in silence as he came up with no real response.

"Looks like he won't do too much damage, someone is watching him," Bobby said.

Winchester watched as Sam stuck his head out and handed Forester a metal cylinder, to which Forester said something before handing Sam something else.

"You said the guy seemed to know his way round a car."

"It was just a lucky guess," Winchester said as he watched Sam duck back underneath the Impala.

"Sure it was," Bobby said. "Not that you aren't going to check at all when they're done?"

"They're?"

"Well if Sam actually does whatever he is doing right, you know damn well it's because somebody's told him how to do it. But even if he hasn't you can't complain about team work can you?"

Winchester took a breath. "No, you can't, can you."

* * *

"Then roll it, before you try and slot it in," Forester said.

"It'll be the wrong way round," Sam said.

Forester let out a laugh, "you looked at it right? It's symmetrical, it'll fit. If you don't want to try that then you'll have to…wiggle it into place."

"I'm not risking snapping it."

"It's designed to deal with the suspension of 3000 lbs of metal so if you think that you can break it just by moving it up and down a little in a confined space, then ….well you'd really be I don't know some devil thing."

"Thanks," came the response from under the car.

"That or you really got screwed on that deal."

"Fuck!"

"What?" Forester asked.

"Nothing," Sam replied in a muffled voice.

"What's happened?"

"Caught my damn hand didn't I," Sam explained.

"Is there any 'liquid?"

"If that is a euphemism for 'are you bleeding'? Then no, I'm not."

"Actually I was more concerned about the brake line," Forester said. "Your hand is your problem."

"Jez, thanks."

"Fine, if you tell your brother that you ripped the brake line while installing…."

"Yeah, I get it," Sam said as he stuck out a hand to reach for a wrench. "But the line is intact."

"Please tell me he's using a ½ inch," a voice asked Forester.

"What the hell else would you use?" Forester replied.

Sam stuck his head out from where he was working.

"Have you at some temporary bolts in there? To hold it in place?" Winchester said.

Sam swallowed, "Yeah."

"Sure you do," Winchester said trying not to laugh. He turned to Forester. "You know she's my baby."

"She's a great looking car," Forester replied nervously.

"Yeah," Winchester replied.

"Is she 6 or 8 cylinders?" Forester asked. "It's just your brother said you rebuilt a couple of years ago."

Winchester hesitated for a moment. "No, I didn't do anything to her."

"So…ehm," Forester hesitated. "Still just under three hundred horses?"

"Yeah, suited her better to keep her as she was."

Forester looked at the machine before nodding appreciatively.

"Glad you approve," Winchester said as he watched Forester's response, before he turned to Sam. "It only takes one of us to do that thing you know."

"I know," Sam said.

"Right," Winchester mumbled sticking his hands in his pockets. "I'm not the one…"

"It's okay, Dean," Sam said with a nod.

"I'm not saying in any way, shape or form that I believe for one second that there is any possibility that it will tell us anything apart from…."

"Life sucks?" Forester interjected.

"Yeah," Winchester said as something went clunk from under the Impala. Winchester grimaced.

"I…." Sam started to say.

"I'll be back when you finish," Winchester said through gritted teeth as he turned around. "Just don't kill her, Bitch."

Sam smiled. "It's just a car you know….Jerk!"


	15. Chapter 15

"You know for something that can lead to a life changing event it sure comes in a small box," Jo said as she read the back of the thing that had been sitting on Bobby's table. She looked up as her mother, "You don't think, you know that Bobby's right?"

Ellen shrugged. "Hell if I know."

Jo took a breath, "If he is, well it's a hell of a lot to take in without the rest of it, you know."

"Yeah, going to throw that boy for a loop," Ellen said quietly.

"I know it is going to be weird for them but it isn't like their Dad cheated on their mom or anything?" Jo said.

"What?" Ellen said.

"John," Jo said. "I'm just saying that sure for Sam and Dean it will be really weird but at least seeing Forester's age, they'll know it was after their mom died."

Ellen raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, sure they'll know that."

"But for Forester it's really going to be tough." Jo explained. "To be hunted one day then to find out you weren't you thought you were?"

"You think that this will send him over the edge?" Ellen asked.

Jo shook her head. "No, I don't think so, at least not in the long run, but if it's like Bobby's been saying he isn't going to take it too well, not at first."

"Yeah, if it is like Bobby says," Ellen replied thoughtfully as she got up to refill her coffee cup.

"What else could it be like?" Jo asked not too sure what to make of her mother's response.

Ellen sighed. "It's just not the best timing that's all."

"Timing?" Jo asked, causing Ellen to turn round.

"What with that deal and everything else that is going on around here is there, even if there is probably nothing to the way Forester looks but pure stupid coincidence," Ellen said as she took the thing out of Jo's hands.

"Some coincidence," Jo replied. "You really sure about that?"

Ellen looked the box. "What is it spit or blood?"

"Spit," Jo said to her mother who was holding the thing as if she was deliberating something.

"Hey," Sam said as he and Forester walked into the room, both of them hesitating as they saw the thing in Ellen's hands.

"So…ehmm, we finished up fixing the Impala and…." Forester explained causing the women and Sam to look at him.

"You don't need to explain," Sam said quietly.

"Right," Forester said.

Ellen tutted, "So I'm guessing…?"

Sam nodded, "Thought we'd get it over and done with then we can focus on the important stuff."

"What does your brother think?" Bobby asked as he stood behind them.

"He said if we want to do then we should just get on with it," Sam said.

Ellen put the box back down, "But he still not completely happy about it?"

"Does that matter?" Bobby replied to which Ellen sighed.

"So me and Forester are just going to do this and then we'll sort the rest of it while we wait for the result," Sam explained. "And Dean is good with that."

"Yeah, then there will be no more hints about my family history," Forester said turning his attention to Bobby.

"Fair enough boy," Bobby replied.

"Right," Ellen said moving to pick up her full coffee cup. She patted Forester on his shoulder, as she walked out the room, glaring in the direction of Bobby. "Then we can get passed this bullshit and actually come up with a plan for you."

Jo picked up the instructions leaflet that came with the box as her mother left, "Ehmm, guys if you are sure you want to do this," Jo said. "Well, have you actually read what it says?"

"Why?" Sam asked.

* * *

The lug nut was only slightly loose and it hadn't decompressed too far, though the shit lamp light wasn't helpful.

"Dean," came the voice above him.

"Give me five minutes Sammy," he replied from his place in the dimly light cramped work space.

"Yeah, how does it look under there?" Sam asked.

"The brake line isn't busted," he replied. "So that is good."

"Right," came the hesitant reply.

"What is going on?" he asked as he pushed himself out from under the Impala, to see both Forester's and his brother looking down at him. "Okay, that's terrifying."

Both of them looked at each other before turning to the face on the trolley.

"What is it?" he asked.

Sam scratched his head. "See it is about that test."

"What about it?" he asked.

Forester coughed as Winchester got up.

"Well?" Winchester asked as he started to lower the car to the ground. "You two here to tell me you're done? Or is it that you've got some sense and changed your mind about it?"

"No," Sam said with a shake of his head.

Forester took a deep breath, taking out the little swab. "The kit says it's more reliable the more known DNA you've got to compare it with."

Winchester raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"If all three of us do it then they can do a better comparison, seeing how they'll then have two known samples to compare Forester's too." Sam explained.

Winchester inhaled deeply, "No."

"All we need is the mouth swab and then it's done, no one can say we made any mistakes," Forester said.

"I said no," Winchester replied firmly. "You guys want to do it, fine. You want an extra sample Forester, call someone in your family; but leave me out of it."

"That's what we thought you'd say," Sam said quietly as the hood came down over his head and the world went dark.

* * *

It felt like forever for the lights to come back on, his head hurt like hell and the rush of air when the hood came off.

"You fucking bastards!" Winchester yelled.

"Now Dean, you got to calm down," Sam said to his brother, who struggled against the bindings.

"Untie me Sam," Winchester said struggling. "You untie me now!"

Forester took a step back, "I'm not sure that is a good idea."

"You think?" Jo replied.

The chair strained "One of the four of you better untie me or so help me God!"

"You'll break my chair?" Bobby asked causing Winchester to glower at him angrily;

"So you guys took what you wanted and now you are going to leave me like this?" Winchester yelled.

Bobby shook his head. "No, we ain't taken anything and we ain't going to do it when you're out."

"Great," Winchester mockingly replied. "Ain't I a lucky roofied prom date?"

Sam crouched down as his brother seethed. "Dean, please."

Winchester smiled maliciously, "If you don't let me go, I swear that Nair in your shampoo is going to be the least of your problems."

"Dude, grow up."

"Me grow up, I'm tied to a fucking chair!"

"Well, it isn't like you were prepared to have a discussion about it," Sam reasoned.

"Seriously?" Winchester replied. "Like you tried real hard to talk about this before you Guantanamo'd me!"

"We did not Guantanamo you," Sam said.

"Sure you didn't and next thing next you won't water board me as a way to get me to agree to this while keeping a clear conscience," Winchester said. "Because the UN said that method to get anything you want – I believe the term was 'sucked'."

Forester sighed as he rolled his eyes in response.

"Oh no you don't," Winchester yelled. "Don't you dare give me the bitch face!"

"What?" Forester asked.

"I only take it from him because of…well I'll take it from him," Winchester retorted gesturing in Sam's direction. "But don't think for one minute I am going to take the bitch face from you and definitely not on this."

"Dean, please," Sam said pulling up a chair as Forester tried to think of a response.

"Sam, if anyone comes near me with a cue tip I'll bite their damn hand off!"

"If he's going to go crazy anyway could we could just hold his nose to get him to open his mouth?" Jo said to Bobby as a quick way out of the situation.

"Does it have to be a spit sample?" Forester asked. "Can't it be say hair or something else?"

"We have this," Sam replied holding up the cue tip, "They didn't give us anything to put a hair sample in or say if we could use it to take a blood sample and it's not like he's going to sit there while we get another kit that does."

"Well what other sample can we get from him?" Jo said. "Sweat? Or nasal?"

Sam looked at the expression on his brother's face, before you holding out the sample stick to Jo, "You go ahead, you stick the thing up his nose or wherever."

Jo sighed taking the thing, "Well I suppose if you guys are going to be chicken shit."

"Sure girl you do that," Bobby said as Winchester flexed at the bindings.

Jo took a hesitant step towards Winchester who was looking at her through darkened angry eyes.

"Can't you guys distract him?" Jo said.

"It's best you do that as well," Bobby said. "Because I'm guessing he'll just put you in the ER, the rest of us he'll put in the ground."

"Even if she gives me a lap dance there is no way she is getting a clean sample from me!" Winchester angrily shouted.

"Oh grow up," Bobby said to him before getting a mouthful in reply while Jo hesitated.

"Come on Dean; just let her take the sample." Forester said calmly.

Winchester glared at him, "Even if she tries to get one by giving me the best fucking blow job in the universe, I ain't playing ball as I can go way longer than she can."

"That is nice to know," Ellen said coldly as she came into the kitchen, walking over to Jo and taking the sterile swab out of her hand. "But if she offered, I'd kick your ass from here to the next state."

"You too?" Winchester asked the woman infront of him.

Ellen slowly unwrapped the thing from it's packaging, "Now, you can bitch all you want and personally I am in complete agreement with you. But they are stuck on this idea and one way or another they are going to do this."

"They don't need me," Winchester replied.

Ellen tutted. "No they don't, but you can't do anything about that being tied up, can you – so open your god damn mouth, give the sample and then I'll let you up and you then you can do anything to them you like and I won't say a thing."

"Sure you won't!" Winchester said as Ellen stood there before he slowly opened his mouth and allowed her to take the sample. She slowly packaged it before turning to Sam.

"You two done you part?" she asked to which Sam nodded.

"Right then," Ellen said securing the cover that was proved for the sample before holding it out for Jo to take. "You want to get that and the other two where they need to go?"

"So, you going to let me up?" Winchester asked as Ellen watched her daughter leave.

Ellen turned to Sam and Forester, "The two of you really want to be here?"

"Nope," Sam said looking at his brother's angry face. He looked at Forester who seemed to get the hint breaking out into as much of a run as he could.

"Now don't you hurt them too much," Ellen said as she cut Winchester's bonds.

"Oh don't you worry about that!" Winchester hissed before he bolted out of the chair to follow the path his brother had taken.

She walked over to the counter to put down her knife to open up one of Bobby's cupboards to take out a glass as Bobby looked out one of the windows to see Winchester running past the window.

"Wouldn't want to be in either of those boys' shoes right now," he said with a chuckle.

Ellen said nothing as she headed into Bobby's front room to try and find one of the half empty bottles of gut rot that were scattered about the place. Bobby swallowed as he watched her pour a shot before throwing it back.

"You know I went to his folk's place?" Bobby said to her as she herself poured another.

"You don't say."

"Yep," Bobby said. "The kid sister looks just like him, there is no way the two of them ain't blood, but their mother…."

"Wasn't the spit of John's wife?" Ellen said mockingly as she found poured herself a third before she filled up a mug that had been sitting on a desk to hand to Bobby.

"Yep," Bobby replied slowly. "But if you met her – she remind you of her son so maybe they're family somewhere down the line?"

"Ain't that something," she said.

He put the mug down hard, "What? What the hell is it?"

"You are a stupid ass Robert Singer – this backfires and you clean up the god damn mess you hear me."

"Look it will be hard, but in a way maybe some good will come of it," Bobby reasoned. "Sam…."

"Sam will what?" Ellen asked. "Have a nice little family to get to know eventually? But what about Dean?"

"The kid will get over it; it'll be hard but…."

"But what?" Ellen said before bursting into laughter. "You think I mean Forester don't you?"

"Well, don't you?" Bobby asked confused.

"No, stupid!"

"I they are just cousins great, explains the stupid coincidence, but if John did father this Forester kid and his sister too, don't mean that he loved Mary any less, if you look at Dean Forester's age, it happened after the fire and Dean will eventually get that. As for the sister, who says John knew about the first one – let alone the second. Bastard didn't care what was happening about him at the best of times unless hunting was involved, could have been just one of those things, he bumps into her again and doesn't do the math when she tells him about the first one when he left the second present."

Ellen sighed as she rubbed her temple. "You got it all worked out haven't you?"

"What the hell have I missed?" Bobby asked.

"Nope, you've covered everything – worse case, John was his usual bastard self and didn't listen to the one night stand he screwed a second time," Ellen said sarcastically.

"Yeah that about covers it!" Bobby barked back.

She rolled the glass in her hand leaving the tense air to build.

"Okay, what the hell are you going to say?" Bobby asked. "What did we forget about?"

"You didn't need the both of them for that thing – either one of those boys and Forester would have done."

"You were the one that made Dean give a sample," Bobby reasoned.

"Yeah, because you tied him to a chair and if I let him up he would have guessed something was up."

"What could be up?" Bobby asked.

"You are an idiot," Ellen said. "It didn't even occur to you did it?"

Bobby looked at her confused.

"Of course not! It never goddamn does, does it?" She exclaimed quietly. "To another guy of course but to someone you know…"

"What?"

She swallowed, "With the way those boys look it never occurred to you that your worse case scenario could ever prove that it wasn't John, did it?"

"Ellen, what are you saying."

"I'm going to have to spell this out you aren't I?" she asked. "It takes two people to get pregnant! That maybe, just maybe mother Forester wasn't the only one who got friendly with someone who was simply 'passing' through!"

"What?" Bobby asked.

"You heard me," she said. "Thanks to that little scene in there we are not only testing one family here – you're testing two. "

"No, John would have said something."

"Why the hell would he know?" Ellen asked. "Bill wouldn't have."

"Bill? What the hell…Oh."

"Yeah," Ellen said.

Bobby took a breath.

"Sometimes Bobby it's pretty obvious you and Karen never had the chance to realize how easy things can get all screwed up by something you want." Ellen poured another drink.

"Ellen, I don't understand?"

"I thought about it, that was all. He was just a stupid ass that was passing through, paid me a bit of attention; well the right type of attention and right under my husband's nose, not that Bill was caring at that point. All I was seeing was a guy who saw me and not the one that was treating me like I was going to break 'cause I gave birth to his kid."

"Right, okay?" Bobby tentatively said. "I suppose when you first had her it must have been…different from you."

"It was long after the new born shit, she was two," Ellen explained. "Bill, I could see him sniffing elsewhere too, he was as frustrated as hell, though it wasn't like he was even trying to come near me at that point, got past the things change to kinda looking at me like I was some type of Madonna figure, like I was too good to be though about in that way. But even if he wanted too, it wasn't exactly happening."

"Excuse me?"

"Lets just say that toddlers that are scared of the dark don't care if Mommy and Daddy get a full night's sleep let alone letting them have some special alone time," Ellen said snorting in amusement. "Don't think he did anything either, before you ask and Jo will never know!"

"Right," Bobby said.

"I'm just saying, John put that woman on a pedestal after she died, could have done the same thing before hand," Ellen explained. "And if she did find someone who saw her as flesh and blood or as something more than mommy to a little kid, for a little while; she wouldn't have been the first and won't be the last and I doubt John would broadcast it if he knew, especially if…"

Bobby ran a hand over his face. "Oh, Jesus."

"Yeah," Ellen said as she filled his mug. "So, what do you think of that worse case now?"

"No," Bobby said with a shake of his head. "No, that ain't happening."

"Yeah, we just better hope that it's simply that cousin thing, a stupid coincidence or that it was John that couldn't keep it zipped up because if it turns out that Forester's Mom and Mary found the exact same 'help' to feel like themselves again while they had a little one at home; well, I ain't going to tell that boy that he's sold his soul for a family he didn't really know."


	16. Chapter 16

**It has been a really long time, hasn't it**

* * *

"You didn't have to hit him that hard," Jo yelled as she held an ice pack to Forester's forehead.

"For the last and final time – I DID NOT HIT HIM" Dean Winchester bellowed. "Not that he wouldn't have deserved it."

"Look at him," she yelled back as she stood up quickly swinging her arms around wildly.

"Oww," Forester said as the ice pack whacked him in the back of the head.

"Yeah, look at him," Winchester snorted.

"Jo, it wasn't Dean's fault," Sam said causing all three sets of eyes to look at him.

"I mean…Dean didn't hit Forester," Sam responded.

"He's right I walked into a door of a wreck," Forester said as he took the ice pack out of Jo's hands.

"You walked into the door of a wreck?" Jo asked him before turning her glare towards the Winchesters, in particular Dean.

"It's been four days, Dean," she said. "You can't be still seriously be pissed enough to chase him down in a salvage yard, again."

"I didn't chase anyone down," Dean Winchester protested. "For crying out loud, I was the one who carried him in."

"I didn't need to be carried back to the house," Forester tried to interject.

"Sure you didn't Big Guy, get up from this table and dance if you are that steady on your feet now," Winchester retorted.

"Bro," Sam said holding back a chuckle.

"Oh, you two treat it like a joke," Jo said before turning to Forester. "And why the hell did you walk into a wreck."

"It was there?" Forester said hopefully as she stared at him. He swallowed. "I kinda, I don't know."

"You don't know?" Sam asked.

Forester looked around nervously, "I thought I saw Ruby and…"

"You thought you saw who?" Winchester said standing up.

"That girl Ruby, well that demon," Forester admitted. "I just didn't want to talk to her again."

"Again?" Sam asked. "You've been seeing her a lot."

"Well, yeah," Forester replied.

"Where?" Jo asked.

"Here," Forester replied. "Because it isn't as if I've been getting out much lately."

"You've been talking to Ruby?" Sam asked Forester.

Winchester looked at his brother confused, "You didn't know she was here?"

Sam shook his head, before focusing his attention on Forester. "What has she been talking to you about?"

Forester looked at the ground, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

"What has she been saying, Dean?" Jo asked bending down to look Forester in the eye.

After a moment he brushed a stray hair out of the blonde girl's face and gave her a stilted smile. "It's nothing, I just like to stay out of her way when I see her in the yard and it is fine."

"What the hell is the She-bitch saying to you?" Winchester asked angrily.

"Dean," Sam interjected only to get a hard stare from his brother.

"What is Ruby saying to you, if stalking you is her new hobby," Winchester asked Forester.

"She's just being a…well, a bitch. That is all," Forester admitted. "Isn't that what they or demons do or the least that they do, isn't it?"

"She's being a bitch to you?" Jo said.

"It's stupid," Forester said. "I'm a grown man, I can take getting some name calling and it isn't like I haven't been through something like that before."

"Name calling?" Sam asked.

Forester nodded. "She's just trying to push my buttons that is all."

"That can't be it," Winchester stated. "She is stalking around Bobby's yard just to call you a few names?"

"Yeah, she's been hanging around taking a few shots at me, it isn't like she is physically doing anything apart from following me around and saying things," Forester said. "It's me that did this to myself."

"You are saying you knocked yourself out cold because she was calling you names?" Jo asked stifling a giggle.

"No, I didn't knock myself out cold, I walked into a door because I thought I heard her behind me and I'd just got off the phone with my friend Frank and I didn't want to deal with her, okay," Forester admitted getting somewhat irritated by the questioning.

"You sure that is all she is doing?" Winchester asked.

"I don't know," Forester retorted to him. "Isn't working out what demons are up to supposed to be your business? Not mine?"

Winchester recoiled a little as did Sam before he took a step forward to try and calm his brother down.

"I'll find out why she is hanging around," Sam said. "I will."

"Seriously, you think that is all it will take when Bobby finds out he's got that type of vermin hanging around his yard?" Winchester asked to which Sam knotted his brow.

"Don't, don't give me the puppy eyes or the bitch face before going on about how she could be useful and we need to find out if she has a plan before deciding to get rid of her."

"She didn't need to warn us about Lilith, did she?" Sam asked.

"No, she has warned you about Lilith, not us," Winchester replied. "And how exactly did that turn out last time, oh yeah her turning tail while leaving us to deal with the shit."

Sam sighed before Winchester stormed out the room, he turned to Forester. "Look dude, if you see her…."

"I'll tell her to go talk to you," Forester said rubbing the bruise that was forming on his forehead. Sam nodded and turned to follow his brother.

Jo shook her head as Sam left pulling out a chair at the table to sit down.

"Even though staying away from a demon is generally a good idea but seriously you hit yourself in the head because of some name calling?" she asked.

Forester slumped, putting his head in hands. "Don't."

"Don't what?" Jo asked.

"I just wanted five minutes peace, okay," Forester said. "Angie is on tranquillisers; Ortiz is close to losing his job because the cops have been down at the site a couple of times because my family has been trying to find out where I am."

"Why does that mean your friend is close to losing his job?" Jo asked.

"Because the site manager is a racist bastard and Frank has too much experience for him to have a go at without risking most of the guys walking off site and it is all my fault."

"It isn't your fault," Jo said.

"Yes it is, I'm sitting here and two guys are in the nut house, my friends are covering my ass while their world's are going to shit, my family are worried sick and all of that is happening while I'm sitting here waiting to prove to people who don't really want me here that I am not related to them in any way shape or form," Forester said.

"No –one doesn't want you here," Jo said,

"Since we sent that test off only you and your Mom has really talked to me," Forester said. "Winchester obviously hates me, Sam barely talks to me because he's spending most of time trying to keep his brother from…I don't know, and Bobby has been avoiding me like I've suddenly grown a second head."

"No, he hasn't and Dean doesn't hate you, he's just being a jerk."

"I make them uncomfortable and I get it, I do," Forester said. "Plus, I've got an alimony payment in a couple of days and I'm not sure if I've got enough to cover it, my rent, the hospital bills, not to mention the payment to her folks because it's not like I'm getting a pay check this month or been around to deal with it, and then Lindsay's Dad will just go to my folks. Christ Jo, I just didn't want to deal with the girl who seems to get her kicks right now from just taking shots at me."

"You got an alimony payment due?" Jo asked.

He looked away from her, "Yeah, I really screwed up that one. But that was years ago."

"Years ago? What were you, twelve?" she asked.

"No," Forester said. "I just seem to have this habit of screwing up a lot and that was a thing I screwed up."

She looked at him seriously. "I don't know about that, but well…"

"Well, what?"

"You got nine grand," Jo said. "It is up to you; I know you don't like having it or how you got it, but it isn't like that asshole is going to be coming to claim it right now is he and it could take care of some of your problems, though personally it might be a good idea to keep some of it…just in case."

"Just in case?" Forester asked.

She shrugged. "Well, yeah."

-o-

"No Sam, don't," Winchester yelled.

"Dean, if she is stalking the yard then maybe she is might be trying to get hold of me to tell us something."

"So why not pick up a phone if she has you on speed dial to tell us that she wants to talk instead of toying with your doppelganger?"

"I won't know until I talk to her, will I?" Sam reasoned standing his ground causing his brother growl.

"Don't take whatever bug is crawling up you ass out on me," Sam said. "I can't make those test results come any sooner and as for Forester, I didn't know that Ruby was talking to him."

Winchester looked away. "This is going to hell Sam, really it is."

"What is?"

"Everything," Winchester admitted. "We got no idea what to do about Forester there, he can't stay here forever and we don't have any idea how many hunters are after his or your ass, let alone what this Lilth has got planned. And I don't like the only way we can get intel on that particular problem is a demon who seems to want to play patty cake with the last man standing of Yellow's Eyes special kids and don't go on about how she is helping you to try and keep me alive."

Sam took a deep breath. "Really, is that it?"

"Yeah, well those are my top one right now seeing how I am trying to block out the fact you made Ellen have no choice but, to violate me," Winchester retorted.

"You weren't violated."

"I didn't want to take part Sam, so that DNA test is one step off being a rape kit, really it is."

"You are a melodramatic drama queen you know that," Sam said.

"Am not, Bitch."

"Yeah hide behind macho bullshit as usual, while blowing things way out of proportion" Sam replied as Winchester walked out the backdoor only getting a few yards before coming face to face with the last person he wanted to see.

Ruby's face fell. "Oh, it's you?"

"No, it's chopped liver," he replied curtly.

"Where is your brother, I want to talk to the brains of the operation, Short bus."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really? Don't want to act like you're five years old and call Forester some names again?"

She huffed. "Girl has to pass the time somehow."

"You aren't a girl," Winchester said firmly.

"Used to be though," she said with a smile. "Where is our little innocent then?"

"Leave him alone," Winchester said firmly. "You may have twisted Sam around your little finger, but leave Forester alone."

She gave him a little mock salute. "Yes boss, surely will."

"I'm serious Ruby. Leave Forester alone," Winchester reiterated before turning to walk away from her.

"Fine," she let out a little laugh. "He's getting boring anyway, not like he is being much fun like you would be, he's just taking it. It is a shame really; he asked a few half decent questions."

"What?" Winchester asked.

"Your new toy, he's smarter than you think and even could be fun if he had a little self esteem or a bit more confidence to actually go with that temper of his.

"Temper?"

"The guy is stuck here and feeling completely powerless, of course he's going to be angry. But unfortunately he's controlling it and being smart enough to stay put or didn't you realise that," she explained. "Though it has been amusing but he won't let lose which is why he's becoming boring."

"Really," Winchester replied. "Well, don't blame me if he clocks you one at some point."

"He won't, even though he obviously wants to. Don't you just love social programming," she said with a smirk. "Not like you'll be around to help him get over that with that, will you. Forester will probably just stand there and let Lilith gut him because she's in a pretty pink party dress and he's seems to be such a straight arrow. Seems he's done his playing on the dark side even though on the grand scale of things adultery with the vanilla package, while being married to little Sally wannabe, is so…pathetic."

"You keep bringing up Lilith, haven't seen much of her," Winchester retorted. "Or is it a case of you just blowing smoke up our asses."

"Maybe I am or maybe I'm not, is it worth you risking it considering how much of a liability Forester is to you right now and you won't be around to look after him – or Sam for that matter, but don't worry some of us will be around to make sure Sam is okay, even though your priorities right now seem to be screwed."

He stood there for a moment before turning. "Really? You sure about that?"

-o-

"Hello?"

"Hi there," he nervously replied.

There was a moment's hesitation. "Ehm, hello who is this?"

His throat went dry as the words seemed to stall on the tip of his tongue.

"Hello?" there was a little giggle at the other end of the line. "You know you sound exactly like my…Dean?"

"Hi Lindsay, how's things?" he said shakily before Jo put out a hand to give him a little moral support.

"Dean, are you okay?" Lindsay asked.

"I don't expect you to care, Linds," Dean said. "I kind of forfeited that right."

"Your family has you listed as a missing person. They are worried sick Dean," Lindsay replied before adding. "I heard something about you being shot."

"You heard?" Dean asked.

"Your Mom, she called mine to ask…they are getting pretty desperate," Lindsay explained. "May, she's a real mess. What happened to you?"

"It's all very confusing," Dean admitted. "I just wanted to call to say…"

"You should be talking to them," Lindsay quickly interjected. "Not me, we agreed when you left town that we'd…we were best having as little to do with each other as possible."

"I know."

"Have you tried to call them at all?" she asked.

"I needed some time to get my head round some things," he said to which he heard her sigh.

"Dean, call them or next you'll have your mother beating down the door at the Gilmore house in the hope you were hit in the head, have been lying in a coma before getting up and being stupid by trying to get in touch with Rory," Lindsay said.

He couldn't help but chuckle. "If only that was it Linds. How's things with you?"

"I…"

"Lindsay it was years ago, can't we at least pretend to that we have gotten through some of it."

"Dean, yeah, it was years ago," she replied. "Where are you?"

"I'm okay," he said before looking up at Jo who was still holding his hand. "You heard right, there was a shooting, a drive by and I got hurt…I needed away for a little while and there was this guy who offered me a remodelling job and it is legit I swear it is legit and the timing…it wasn't great in some ways, but…"

"Dean, you are not making any sense," Lindsay said.

"I'm calling to say your alimony is going to be a little late this month, but I am going to pay. Don't worry about that."

She hesitated. "Dean, you sure you are okay? "

"Yeah, but don't worry about the money; you are going to get it."

"I don't really need it. I started this really good job a few weeks ago and it pays okay."

"You got a good job?"

"Yeah," she said. "So you don't have to worry about that. You should just quit whatever that job is and call your parents."

"No, Linds. I said I'd pay," Forester said taking a deep breath sticking to the tale. "I swear the job is legit and I got an advance which means…"

"Means what, Dean?" she asked tentatively.

"It means that I can pay back your parents too," Forester said. "It's a big job, lots of issues with the place. Lot of work, but it is good, though I swear you'd think the devil himself had screwed up this place."

"What are you doing?"

"Just tell your parents they'll get everything I owe them this month and you too, it is just going to be a few days later than usual. That is all."

"Dean, where are you? You sure you are okay?"

"I got shot and there was some stuff that happened after that. I just needed away for a while to sort it all out, Linds. Then I got offered this job in this weirdo place by a guy I met in the hospital."

"A guy you met in the hospital? After you got shot?"

"Yeah, I know it sounds strange, but after what happened I needed to get away and the owner Linds, he's putting me up, for as long as I need it."

"Really and he's has just given you an advance that covers what you were going to pay my parents?" she asked in disbelief. "Dean, seriously come home."

"The guy and his 'family' are…a bit eccentric to say the least but in a kind of good way. They gave me the cash in one go; well, this place needs a lot of work," he said taking a breath as he looked around Bobby's dilapidated kitchen as Jo rolled her eyes at him. "Seriously this place is only a couple of steps from falling down."

"Right, if you are sure," Lindsay said.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Dean, call your parents, please," Lindsay said.

"If you see them tell them I'm okay and I'll be in touch when I can but phone reception here is pretty patchy."

"Dean?"

"Please, tell them I'm okay. I know I have no right to ask, especially from you considering but can you tell them that I love them," he said before putting down the phone as the tears began to fall.

He sniffed before wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry. It is stupid I know, because she is a really good person even with the fact I really hurt her and she'll let them know."

"I'm sure she will," Jo said giving him a hug. "I'm sure she will."


	17. Chapter 17

Next chapter - yeah!

Sorry as it is a Gilmore Girl crossover thought it might be an idea to have at least one of them in a cameo before getting back to the actual plot.

* * *

Weston's bakery was bustling as it always was during the lunch time rush though this meant it was hard to get the overworked assistants attention for a quick refill. Though this fact didn't put Lorelai off as she stood there cup in hand while the poor girl served the every growing queue.

She stood there knowing full well that Luke was getting more and more impatient at being left with a pile of papers at the table while his diner was probably also filling up and was short staffed due to his present location.

"Hi, when you have a moment can I get two decaffs and a bran muffin," the blonde girl said as she finally got to the front of the line while absent mindedly looking in her bag for her purse.

Lorelai hesitated as the girl looked up. "Hi, Lindsay."

She turned as the girl started to deal with her order. "I'll take those to go."

"To go?" the girl asked holding a cup in her hand.

"Yes, like '_To__ Go__'_" Lindsay said firmly before quickly looking out a window to see May Forester crossing the street. "Can you hurry up, please?"

"Yeah sure give me a minute," the girl said anxiously grasping for a paper cup as Lorelai stood there uncomfortably. Lindsay grabbed the two cups and the bag as soon as the girl put the muffin in.

"Keep the change," Lindsay said throwing the cash onto the counter before abruptly turning to quickly leave as the door opened.

"Lindsay!" May said as she caught sight of her former daughter in law.

"Hey May," the girl said striding forward to meet her gently taking hold of the older woman's arm. "It's busy here, let's get out of here."

Lorelai watched as May seemed to agree and followed Lindsay out of the crowded bakery. She turned back to the counter to get her refill before going to rejoin Luke.

"What do you think that was all about?" she asked her fiancé who seemed to still be fighting with the over sized paper plan.

"What?" Luke said looking up for his battle. Lorelai was straining to look out of the window. He twisted round to see what had peaked her interest to see May Forester holding on tightly to Lindsay Lister who as much as she was trying to reciprocate the hug was still trying to balance two coffee cups and a bag at the same time.

Lorelai raised an eye. "That is interesting."

"Yeah sure it is," Luke said twisting back round to face the floor plan that had been getting the best of him.

"Well, aren't the Lister's and Forester's still…well not talking?" Lorelai asked a distracted Luke while she watched Lindsay guide May to the gazebo before handing her the cup of coffee. "Do you think it is about Dean being missing?"

"You want to go out there and ask them?" Luke sarcastically added to which Lorelai recoiled.

"No."

"If you are so curious about what they are doing go on, why not? Maybe you can find out if they still blame Rory for that mess," Luke suggested.

"Best we get back to this before my mother finds us," Lorelai said quickly, turning back to their wedding plans.

-o-

"So let me get this straight, you guys or really Bobby reads all of this to help you 'hunt' things, out of urban myths and legends. You guys do this on your own without any help from any 'real' authorities and in no way in the slightest are your lives like something out of Buffy?" Forester sarcastically asked Winchester as he tried again to explain Bobby's large book collection as the two of them sat in the dilated house.

"No! For the love of God, no!" Winchester said running a tired hand over his face. "Where the hell do you get that idea? It can be nasty and dangerous but we save people."

"Like Buffy did, safe people from the big bads?" Forester asked.

"There are no big…why am I?" Winchester replied half heartedly.

"I'm trying here!" Forester said. "It just sounds..., tell me how you'd try and understand what you guys do, if you were me?"

Winchester mumbled something under his breath. "Fine, but there is nothing like a douchy evil vampire with their own reasons to be helping the Chosen One."

Forester nodded before getting up to hobble over to the window to move the grotty covered curtain to note that Sam was standing there in Bobby's yard swapping jokes with Ruby who was sitting on one of Bobby's car. Winchester grabbed the curtain out of Forester's hand.

"There is no one is getting or losing their soul by having or not having sex," Winchester said. "That happened right, on that show, something about souls and sex?"

Forester looked at Winchester in disgust. "Is that possible in your life?"

"N…I…. We are not some low rate 'Buffy'. There is no going to the prom or messages about life sucking when you are at High School."

"And how was High School for you?" Forester mockingly said causing Winchester to get his back up even more.

"Bobby is not a Watcher. We are not the Scooby gang and there is no girl that would look smoking in leather that we would be willing to fight to the death with!" Winchester reiterated in a low growl.

"Hi Guys," Jo said darting in after a run to grab something from the fridge. "You two want anything?"

Winchester and Forester turned to look across to the old kitchen. To which Jo shrugged. "Fine suit yourselves, got to grab a shower so don't use the water till I'm done, will you?"

"Sure," Forester said.

"Nice to see you two getting along," she said giving Winchester a warm smile before heading upstairs to the bathroom as both men watched her go.

"Shut up!" Winchester said curtly before Forester opened his mouth.

-o-

Ellen sat in the car quietly contemplating things as Bobby took his time at the post office. She started drumming her fingers on the wheel as time seemed to start to drag.

"Yeah, chew my ass out for it taking so long," Bobby said getting back into the car.

"Nope," she replied indicating to the traffic her intention to pull out as Bobby hesitated with the package in his hands. "You aren't going to do it. If you haven't already opened the damn thing then you aren't doing it now."

Bobby huffed before handing it over to her, to stuff down the driver side door.

"Wasn't going to," he mumbled. "But maybe we should."

"And what?" she asked. "Hide the damn results have Sam chase them up? Have the three of them go through this by getting them over the damn phone?"

"Now it is the three of them?"

"Knock off the shit," Ellen snapped as she pulled up to a STOP sign.

"Fine," Bobby mumbled.

"Don't take it out on me," Ellen retorted. "I wasn't the one who suggested that they do the damn thing."

Bobby huffed for a few moments before opening his mouth. "But…"

"Look, they took it, they got a right to open it and if it is the worse thing..."

"That those boys find out that both May Forester and Mary were screwing around?" Bobby said. "They don't need that."

"If it is the truth, it is the truth isn't it?" Ellen reasoned. "And when the hell does that give a damn about smacking those that deserve it in the face."

"I…" Bobby started to say. "No, I can't see it. Not the way that John kept both…"

"John did his best, you know it. It was a shit best, but it was the best he had," Ellen said. "And you know what he would have done if you or Jim had tried to take those boys away from him."

"Sometimes think I should have," Bobby mournfully said. "That they would have been better off."

"Probably. If Bill hadn't died maybe I would have made him get John to bring the boys to the roadhouse and I would have done it. Or at least got the bastard to have some sort of place for them there, where they could have got a bit settled," Ellen said. "But we didn't, and now we got one who is on a one way ticket and the other who is going off the reservation when it happens. Whether or not they share the same Daddy, doesn't change the outcome of that one."

"No, but it isn't going to make it easier," Bobby said. "Not now, because he's got what 4 months left."

"That all?" Ellen said with a heart breaking sigh to which Bobby nodded.

"So if it is worse case…we get Forester out there and let the boys deal with it."

"Sure that will work, especially if it turns out that he is Sam's half brother and has to deal with the similar shit," Ellen mockingly added.

"Then what?" Bobby asked.

"Get Dean drunk before we do this and hope he doesn't hit anything, especially Forester, if it doesn't go right."

"Yeah that will work."

-o-

"I don't see why I have to do this?" Forester asked as he reluctantly followed Winchester out into the yard.

"Just move your ass," Winchester bellowed moving quickly through the yard.

"Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I implied that you are some Xander type, wannabe," Forester said. "I didn't get that you were doing it for family reasons."

"For god sake shut your pie hole!" Winchester firmly said as he reached a relatively open stretch of Bobby's yard. Forester looked around at the dented cans and broken glass that littered the ground at the haphazard fence that had been put up on one side.

Winchester opened the bag he was carrying pulling out a colt.

Forester's heart dropped into his boots. "Right, I …I am really sorry and… if it was my parents I would have gotten into something like this just like you guys did. Please don't kill me."

Winchester slowly turned his head. "Seriously?"

"You're not going to shoot me?" Forester asked slowly.

"Don't tempt me," Winchester said returning to his loading the gun. "You shot a gun before?"

"Me?"

"No, Mr Snuffleupagus. Who is standing behind you," Winchester said causing Forester turning quickly round before stopping himself for looking.

"Very funny."

"Well, unless you are willing to man up to learn how to defend yourself then you'd better pray that the whole cast of Sesame Street turn up to distract their asses while you run for your life because me and Sam can't be watching your ass for ever."

Forester swallowed as Winchester's words hit home. "I went skeet shooting with my Dad."

"So shotguns? You've used them? Okay." Winchester said pulling a pump action out of the bag. "We can start big."

"Start big?" Forester repeated as Winchester handed over the gun.

"Yeah big."

Forester put the gun down on one of the barrels the stood scattered in the yard. "I haven't shot a gun in years."

"But you went skeet shooting?" Winchester said confused.

"Yeah once…but my girlfriend didn't like it so…"

Winchester sighed. "Does that Rory girl still have your balls in her purse? Because really they aren't doing you any good if they are still there."

Forester's face hardened. "Fine, how do you work this thing?"

"Good," Winchester said as he began to instruct Forester in how to use the weapon before pointing towards the rickety fence with an unspoken understanding.

Forester took a deep breath, closed his eyes and fired the thing.

"Did I hit it?" he asked a moment later opening one eye just as Winchester walked over to the target.

"Well, that is the first time I have ever seen someone miss a wall!" Winchester replied running his hand over the wood.

"Dean!" Sam yelled as he came running gun drawn to see Forester shotgun in hand pointing it in the direction of his brother. "Put it down."

"What?" Forester said as he found himself at the wrong end of Sam's piece. He let go of the shot gun, letting it fall to the ground. "Man, I didn't…"

"Sam calm down," Winchester said as Forester backed away from the gun.

"Dean?" Sam asked confused but not lowering his weapon. "Why does he have a gun?"

"Because I gave it to him," Winchester replied causing Sam to straightened his stance in response. He lowered his gun as he looked quizzically between Forester and his brother, just as an alarmed Jo can running into the yard yelling about she had heard a shot.

"Oh great," Forester said as he felt his embarrassment growing as Winchester went back to examining lack of recent buckshot.

"Seriously, Dude?" Winchester said with a real serious face. "It's a shot gun, how the fucking hell do you miss? You point it in the direction of what you want and…, how?"

"Do you want me to try again?" Forester asked they all looked at him.

"We might want to do that?" Winchester said.

"Bro, can I talk to you for a minute?" Sam asked.

"Why?" Winchester asked.

"Can I talk to you for a minute, please?" Sam asked pulling his brother to away from the embarrassed Forester and Jo.

"What is it Sam?" Winchester asked.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Sam asked.

"What does it look like?" Winchester asked. "We can't take care of him forever and he's a grown man."

Sam hesitated. "So you are teaching him to shoot?"

"You got a better idea?" Winchester asked to which Sam glared in response. Winchester sighed. "He wasn't getting the whole how to deal with demons."

"Did you really try?" Sam said mockingly.

"Yes Sam, I tried," Winchester retorted. "And even though I got further than you did when he tried to hold you off with a chair; he doesn't get it without comparing it all to TV."

"So you decide to put a gun in his hand instead?"

"Well, he was making my head hurt."

"And you solve that, by having Forester point a gun in your direction?" Sam asked.

"What?" Winchester asked turning to see Jo instructing Forester in one of the other guns. "Don't be an ass. He needs to be shown how to look after himself and if he can't get his head around what is really out there or learning how to deal with demons, then this is the only thing I got time to really teach him."

Sam's face hardened. "Seriously Dean?"

"Yeah, Sam," Winchester said firmly. "He's got to learn."

"We got the hunters that were after him. Maybe there won't be more and Ruby could be wrong about Lilith," Sam retorted. "Give it some time and Forester can go back to his old life."

"Yeah sure, Sam. You think that," Winchester said patting his brother on the chest, "And in the mean time Forester runs around like a kindergardener without a clue how to tie his shoes when 'nothing' out there may want ventilate his insides."

Sam grabbed his brother's arm. "This isn't right."

"What isn't right?"

"You can't force him to learn how to shoot. He isn't one of us," Sam said.

"One of us?" Winchester scoffed. "Yeah, sure he isn't. Because we had to learn a secret handshake before we got to enter wild kingdom."

"You know what I mean," Sam said. "He has a life he can go back to."

"Who the hell says I'm stopping him? But unless we are going to permanently watch his back, he needs to know what to do. I'm sorry, Sam, but this is what I know how to teach him," Winchester said strolling away.

"Don't do this Dean, Forester isn't like us," Sam said.

"Unless you can come up with a better idea then I don't think we got much choice if you want Forester to keep breathing," Winchester said.

"Fine," Sam said through gritted teeth before storming off. "Become just like Dad!"

Winchester took a breath before smirking a little as he watched his brother go. "I was hoping you'd see it that way.


	18. Chapter 18

She smiled as he missed the target third time in a row.

"Take a breath. You're trying too hard," she said as she saw the obvious frustration building on his face.

"Yeah, real hard," Winchester mockingly added.

Forester whipped round. "If this is so easy, you do it!"

"Fine, I will," Winchester said, picking up one of the guns before bulls eying two of the furthest targets, smirking broadly. He turned round to face an angry Jo who snatched the pistol out of Winchester's hand.

"You are not helping," she firmly said to Winchester. "Remember some people here haven't been shooting since they were six."

"Really?" Winchester replied to her mockingly before turning to see the quiet embarrassed Forester. He sighed before addressing the guy. "Sometimes it takes time, but the more you practice the better."

"Yeah right," Forester said kicking at the ground.

"Dude, seriously," Winchester said picking up one of the guns, holding it outstretched. "Do you want to act like a toddler who had his toy taken away or do you want to learn how to help yourself?"

"Dean, stop being an ass," Jo said as she crossed her arms and glared at Winchester.

* * *

Sam threw down another book as he stormed around Bobby's house.

"What's got your panties in a bunch?" Ruby asked as she stood in the doorway, causing Sam to still for a second before straightening.

"Nothing?" he snapped. "What is happening with Lilith? Because unless you here to tell us something about her or a new lead about my brother's contract then there is no point in you being here."

"So, no chit chat then?" she asked to which he scowled.

"Why the hell would I want to make small talk with a demon?"

She grinned. "Did someone find his conscious?"

"Well, is there?"

She shook her head. "Nothing you don't know about at the moment."

"Is she really that interested in Forester?" Sam asked to which Ruby shrugged.

"Who knows," she replied lightly. "But she or someone will have some fun if they do get their hands on him."

He rubbed his eyes, "Fuck."

"Profanity? Does that help you to think?" she asked.

"No, but isn't it possible that Lilith would just…well, we just sort out the hunter shit and Forester can just go back to normality?"

"Sure, it's possible," Ruby said. "And it would let you get back to worrying about other things."

Sam huffed. "Yeah, like it would be that easy."

"Why not? You can just let the guy go back to what he was doing," she replied. "And nothing is stopping you letting him do that. You aren't responsible for the guy. Not now that you got the guys who shot Forester committed. He can go to the cops if he wants protection for any of their friends. Forester doesn't need you guys."

"Tell that to Dean," Sam replied.

"Why?" Ruby asked. "He decided that instead of getting a dog in the time he has left, he's now going to keep a Forester?"

"No," Sam said with a shake of his head before taking a breath. "But…"

"But what?" Ruby asked.

"Nothing." Sam said looking around the room before picking up a couple of books.

"What are you up too?" Ruby asked confused as Sam continued to search the living room.

"I don't yet," he replied.

* * *

"This is stupid," Forester said after about an hour of target practice with only Jo as his instructor.

She didn't look up as she loaded the magazine in her hand. "Why?"

"Where is…Dean?" he asked causing her to raise her head.

"What, I'm not good enough for you?"

"No!" Forester protested. "It is just that I'm…well."

"Bobby wanted to talk to him, so why don't you just keep at it," Jo said. "It makes no difference if I'm telling you how to do it or if one of the guys are doing it. Or does it hurt your 'feelings' to have a girl show you how to shoot?"

He shook his head. "No it doesn't, just he started this and it would be helpful….well, the guy has a temper and is handy with these things. So I'd rather not get in-between whatever is going on with the two of you. Especially, as I no longer have the excuse that even though I'm not very good with a gun I'm not absolutely clueless if he gets it into his head that I'm the cause of whatever that was going on with the two of you before Bobby came back and kicked Ruby out of the house."

"Excuse me?"

"You know the 'bickering'."

"You don't want to get in-between me and Dean now that you have an idea how to you use a gun because we were as you put 'bickering'?" Jo asked. "Even though you are missing the target most of the time?"

"Yeah," Forester said to which Jo stifled a laugh.

"Are you expecting Dean to challenge you with pistols at dawn?" Jo asked. "What planet are you living on?"

"So you are telling me that there isn't something between you and Winchester?" Forester asked. "Or at least something on the horizon?"

A cloud descended over Jo. "Can we get back to you missing the wall?"

"Jo?" Forester asked.

"Forester, can we get back to this while the light is still good," Jo replied to which Forester put down the gun.

"What?" Jo asked as she found herself being stared down.

"Does he know how you feel?" Forester asked.

"Shoot the target," Jo replied.

"Does he know how you feel?"

She shrugged as she blushed. "Doesn't matter, he doesn't feel the same anyway."

"How do you know?" Forester asked.

She put down the magazine. "It doesn't matter how I feel because all he doesn't see me that way, even if I told him that I'm still crushing on him. He never has."

"How do you know?" Forester asked. "Sam says Winchester has stopped fighting, but maybe if he has something to fight for?"

"And you think I could be it?" she scoffed. "Please."

"Why not?" Forester said. "From what I've seen, well I don't understand it but maybe, if he has something to fight for then maybe he won't…you know just think that he has to drop down dead."

She sighed. "I think it was easier when you where just holding us off with a chair."

"Yeah, let's go back to that," he retorted.

She steeled herself for a moment. "Forester, you are sweet but no. You trying to match make or make me confess how I'm crushing on a guy whose world revolves around hunting and his little brother, well, I won't thank you for it and neither will anyone else. It will not help anyone and not just because he sees me like a little sister. Even if I did tell him and he felt something, it is much more complicated that you know about even without the other shit going on right now. No-one here has time to worry about what I have felt for a long time, even if it would just gives everyone a good laugh. So best you put a sock in it"

"Sure if that is what you want," Forester said turning his attention back to the guns in front of him. "It is…"

"It is what?" Jo asked.

"Nothing," Forester said, "And I can't talk."

"Talk about what?" Jo asked.

Forester looked over at her. "You are right. You and him are none of my business."

"Good," she replied.

"But if you want to talk about it. About how what you are feeling isn't ever going to go anywhere," he said. "Well I might not really understand the supernatural or be any good at this survival stuff, but unrequited shit – that I can do."

"Great, you can't protect yourself but you do chick flick moments and can notice what other people are feeling. It explains where all the sensitive genes in the Winchester family went," she retorted which in turned caused Forester's expression to harden.

"Fine, let the whole 'what if', 'why am I not good enough' and 'why can't he see how much I care', eat you up and spit you out."

He turned his back to her, starting to hobble off as he grumbled something under his breath.

"Forester! Wait! I didn't mean it like…Christ sake, Forester! Don't be like that," she called, as she hastily tried to pack the weapons they had been using. He didn't turn round to respond, instead continue to head towards the house.

"Dean!" she yelled, throwing the bag over her shoulder and breaking out into a run to catch the tall figure that had almost made it to the back door of the house. She grabbed hold of his arm spinning him round as he got to the back door. "Look I didn't mean to say what I said."

"Sure you didn't," he replied.

"I was…" she started to say. "Jesus, are you over sensitive."

"Sure I am," Forester snapped back. "Look whose talking."

Jo clenched her jaw for a second, holding her tongue as her mother opened the back door. "Good, that saves me a trip to go find you two. Best you come in so we can get this over and done with and put all three of you boys out of your misery."


	19. Chapter 19

The room wasn't exactly spinning, no, not spinning; throbbing would have been a better description as the piercing light hit his eyes. Yes throbbing that was what the walls where doing, the peeling paint undulated before him in his semi-conscious state.

He would have lay there waiting for its movement to ease if it hadn't been for the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that didn't seem to want to subside, in fact instead of it subsiding it seemed to want to make its presence known in the most violent of ways.

"Get out of the way!" he yelled pushing his way into the bathroom before evacuating the contents of his stomach into Bobby's grotty toilet. Afterwards he sank back, grabbing some tissue to wipe his mouth.

"Well that is a good sign," Ellen said as she stood in the door causing him to turn and look at her.

"Worry when you start being able to keep Bobby's cheap shit down," she said with a smile. "Breakfast will be up in half an hour."

"I don't think I want anything," he said to which she tutted.

"You think you feel like shit now? Wait till that cheap bourbon really hits. Best for your insides that they have something to try and soak it up while it's trying to eat its way out of you. It is really just watered down paint stripper with some food colouring," she said causing him to let out a groan before returning to throw up.

"I am a lousy drunk."

She smiled. "That isn't something to be ashamed of kid. But best you wash up now you hear?"

He sat there for a moment trying to breathe through the taste of vomit as the floor of the bathroom began to show the same symptoms that the walls in small bedroom he had woken up in had displayed.

"Dean?" Ellen asked.

"Yes?" he said turning to her causing her to let out a motherly chuckle.

"Kitchen. Half an hour."

After a few seconds he nodded. "Okay."

-O-

"Pass the toast, will you?" Dean Winchester said before stretching over his brother to grab the plate over the seemingly distracted Sam.

"It isn't right that you aren't feeling like shit," Jo stated.

"Because he's a self-righteous bastard," Bobby said as Dean went on to happily pour some coffee.

"Well I told you, I told you all and did you believe me? No." Winchester retorted tearing into the toasted bread. "We could have saved ourselves 500 bucks if you had all listened to me."

"Stop being a smug asshole," Bobby said as Forester entered the kitchen and slowly pulled out a chair.

"Well look what the cat dragged in," Winchester said with a smirk which caused Ellen to smack him on the back of the head.

"Hey," Winchester exclaimed. "I got a hangover too you know."

"Doesn't seem like it," Sam mumbled looking up from his papers to grab another cup of coffee.

"Well doesn't do any good to go on about it, does it? Even if the victory party did start a little early for some of us," Winchester said returning to his breakfast , noting the fact that he and Bobby had started drinking a few hours before they had actually opened the damn envelope.

* * *

_**THE KITCHEN THE NIGHT BEFORE**  
_

"_Dean, I'm sorry," Jo said following the tall man into the house, though he did not answer her back. They stopped after a few steps as they heard the bottle being put down hard on the table. Bobby was nursing a glass of brown liquid as Winchester downed the drink in his hand._

_Sam too was sitting there. Glass on table. The three men seeming to be reminiscing about past times and the various hunts the three of them had participated in._

_Ellen put a comforting hand on Forester's arm. "It's okay, thought it best to get them more 'comfortable' before we did this."_

_Forester swallowed. "You sure?"_

"_Just think of it as starting the celebrations early," Ellen said._

"_But what if…" Jo said before halting herself. She hesitantly walked over to the table before picking up the bottle and pouring two more glasses, one of which she handed Forester. She downed the liquid gesturing to him to do the same. "We've got some catching up to do."_

* * *

**The Morning After**

Sam continued to be distracted as everyone else ate, skimming through books and papers as his brother cheerfully made small talk interspersed with mocking of the various states of the other people sitting at the table.

"So you can function in the morning," Bobby said to Winchester as he put a plate of bacon on the table. "What do you want a standing ovation?"

"Well a round of applause would be nice every once in a while would be good," he replied with a smirk.

"Sure," Ellen said. "Because you're so fucking awesome."

Winchester grinned. "I sure am."

"Yeah Bobby, I know my brother is an idjit," Sam mumbled, not looking up from what he was doing before Bobby got a chance to respond.

* * *

**_The Kitchen the night before_**

_The four younger ones were sitting at the table, swigging whiskey, an easy enough rapport with three of them, while the fourth politely tried to fit in with the small talk and the sanitised tales of bravado and embarrassment before the real game of one up man ship between the other male parties at the table really began._

_The ones that involved stories of Sam freezing mid house canvas because of a midget clown at a kid's party, the one where a young Dean Winchester begged their Dad about finding their next gig only for a confused John to open the door a couple of hours later to a guidance counsellor, a rabbi and half the town's PTA committee because of some incident with the AV club and gymnastic equipment._

_The story involving Sam's frustration about his brother's need to go back and rescue 'the bunnies', Winchester's ones about Sam supposed phobia regarding getting his hair cut and not to mention Sam's ones about his brother playing up to being a dumb idiot while Winchester countered with how up to a few years before Sam wasn't exactly shy in hiding behind the lanky geek thing and that only changed because his brother had bulked up in the past few years._

_Jo and Forester listened to the brothers chatting, intermittently talking about titbits as well as their own abortive attempts to go to college when Sam mentioned his time at Stanford. About how they had felt out of place and should have been concentrating on their other responsibilities during their time at school. Jo talked about how hard it was to earn the respect from other hunters that the Winchesters brothers had seemed easily stumbled upon when they were the same age, even though the guys in question had known her for years. _

_When Winchester had mentioned it was more about experience and she shouldn't beat herself up about it, Forester had simply shook his head and said sometimes it wasn't. That he understood what she meant, that it is hard to really break out that box that friends and family put you in and even when you do, all they want to do is put you straight back in it, not out of malice, but because it's easier for all around._

_As Sam and Jo nodded in response, Ellen had put an unopened bottle down on the table with a repose of "Well, isn't that a depressing thought."_

_They sat there and talked about stupid things, Forester's joking about Winchester having proven that he was incapable of picking the baby brother whose diapers he had changed out of a line up to Jo's insistence that she could not get out of paying her way purely through the use of a low cut top and even if it was possible there was no way she would accept living like that no matter how much some of the men at the table stated that women could use their wiles to make their lives a little easier and some 'men' better shut their mouths because they still hadn't had it out about certain incidents._

_Bobby and Ellen stood there watching the ebb and flow of anger, tension, ease and laughter as the bourbon and whiskey disappeared from the table, as jokes and stories were swapped. As some were told not to give up their day jobs when they tried to sing and others were kicked under the table and told to stop being a jerk when they started the Sasquatch and midget jokes._

_Bobby took a breath before heading out to the living room, picking up both another bottle and the envelope sitting on the desk. He stood there, fumbling with it for a few moments until Ellen appeared and steadied his hand._

"_It probably isn't, you know," Bobby said looking into her eyes. "She wouldn't have."_

"_I know."_

"_John would have known and…and in some ways he treated that boy better than he did Dean so there is no way…"_

"_Best we know what the worst case could be before we let them open the thing," Ellen said. "I'm not saying that it will be that, just that there is a slim chance that could explain it. You are probably right if there is anything it will be that they all share a grandpa once or twice removed on John's side of the shrubbery. Forester has a similar stubborn streak as every other Winchester I've ever had the pleasure to come across."_

_Bobby smiled. "Stupid kid."_

"_Yeah he is; poor bastard," Ellen said turning round to look at the four figures as the table. _

"_Mom? You guys joining us or what?" Jo yelled causing Ellen to nod in response._

* * *

**The Morning After**

Forester slowly got up from the table and made a move in the direction of the bathroom only stopping to steady himself by grabbing the kitchen counter.

"You okay Sport?" Bobby asked.

Forester didn't turn round. "I'm okay, I think."

"You sure?" Bobby asked as the younger man clutched at his stomach before bursting out into a run.

"Oh man that is…that is funny," Winchester said.

"Yeah sure it is. In the same way it wasn't hilarious when you spent two days holed up in my back bedroom the first time you try and match me and your Dad drink for drink," Bobby retorted. "Or how your brother decorated the bathroom of the pizza place on main when he was being a smartass and swiped that bottle of whiskey when he was 15?"

"Yeah, that wasn't Sam's smartest move," Winchester admitted.

"What was that about me?" Sam said, taking a moment to look up at from his scribbling.

"Nothing important," Jo replied to which he gave her a shrug and turned his attention back to what he was doing.

"You should stop being a tight bastard and shell out for something that actually doesn't double as a cleaning agent for a gas tank," Ellen said to Bobby who grumbled.

"Don't be like that. Not one person here didn't suffer the first time they tried the cheap shit that you insist on pouring down your throat," Ellen retorted as Jo got up from the table.

-O-

She stood outside the door as she waited for the retching noises to cease.

"I got some Advil, but really it won't do any good," she said.

"Is this what the guy in Alien felt? Just before he died?" he asked, somewhat pathetically.

"As that is a movie about an extra-terrestrial I have no real idea; never seen anything or read anything that proves that those exist. Not to mention the whole thing about that movie really being about the male fear of rape and the reproduction thing," Jo said as the retching started again.

"Believe it or not the food makes it a little easier," Jo said. "Tried enduring a hangover here without putting something in my stomach and it was not pretty."

"Oh please, God. MAKE IT STOP!"

She let out a chuckle. "And there was me thinking you'd be happy this morning."

"Happy?" Forester asked. "My insides are trying to leave my body right now. I don't think that makes for happy."

She chuckled to herself as she could hear him bringing up more of the small breakfast he had just eaten. "Forest…Dean about yesterday. I just want to say I'm sorry."

"What for?" he said as he held onto the toilet bowl for all it was worth.

"I was out of line when I said that thing about you being a Winchester," she explained.

"It's okay." He mumbled in reply.

"I got this nasty habit of finding someone else's sore spot when I get defensive and I wanted you to shut your mouth on my thing. So it's not okay," she said. "And I'm sorry."

"Right you're sorry and I guess I should be happy that you didn't just kick me in the balls," he said before he stated vomiting again.

"You don't need to be like that," she said as he let out a long groan.

"On second thoughts. Jo?" he said causing her to look round the door to see the pathetic figure lying in the middle of the floor.

"What?"

"Kick me in the balls, please!"

"What? Why?"

"Because, it has got to be an improvement on feeling like this," he pleaded.

She let out a laugh. "Well even if it wasn't confirmed I'm pretty sure we are all agreed that you are definitely not a Winchester."

"Yeah, but right now if you try and imply that I am, all I think I can do is puke all over your shoes," Forester replied.

* * *

**_The Night Before_**

"_Is there any point in you telling me that?" Forester asked as Winchester continued to point to strengthen his position._

"_Yeah, really telling him he has no talent doesn't make any sense if you want him to practice more," Sam said._

"_You are really shit at the whole doing the, 'break them down and build them up' shit aren't you," Winchester said to his brother._

"_Because that worked so well for Dad when he did it for us?" Sam asked._

"_You are such a Bitch sometimes, you know that?" Winchester replied._

"_You were the one telling him he had to learn how to shoot and now you are telling him that he is shit at it? Yeah break him down and rebuild him up," Sam said. Before mumbling something about his brother being a jerk._

"_Oh, be on his side," Winchester mockingly said. "Yeah, protect him from big bad…me."_

"_Well, if you stopped being a Dick then no-one would have to call you on it," Forester mumbled into his glass._

"_Being a dick is what I excel at," Winchester said proudly. "Plus I am a dying man. I don't have time to mollycoddle anybody when there is a quick way to kick them up the ass."_

"_Ahh Christ, we are not doing the whole 'It's my dying wish, Sammy," Sam retorted._

"_He has a lot of dying wishes," Jo stated. "And I don't think the one where we let you spend the week at Disneyland with all the Disney Princess' is going to fly."_

"_I still say that if you word the letter right the 'Make a Wish Foundation' would do something about that. And it wasn't all of them just Snow White, Jasmine and the Little Mermaid."_

"_Yeah, because they are the 'Dirty Girls' of the fairy-tale kingdom," Sam mockingly replied._

"_Your thing for Belle is just wrong – she's stuck up, pompous and well there is a singing teacup Dude. That should only happen on a bad acid trip. Not to mention the teapot was Jessica Fletcher – you'd be dead within the week because that mother was the US' biggest serial killer."_

"_He does realise that Jessica Fletcher is a fictional character?" Forester asked the other people at the table._

"_It is best not to interrupt him when he gets like this," Sam admitted._

"_Of course I know she's a fictional character, but she was TV's greatest murderer. And for all we know in some screwy parallel universe she is real and has whacked half of the Eastern Seaboard."_

"_Sure Dean, Jessica Fletcher is alive in a parallel universe," Sam said._

"_Hey," Winchester retorted before waving a hand in Forester's direction. "And didn't you say about the freaky coincidence about him? That we could have just taken some weird turn and he is the two of us in some freaky bizarro world?"_

"_I said it was a coincidence. You brought up bizarro world and pickup trucks." Sam said to which his brother screwed up his face._

"_What is wrong with pickup trucks?" Forester asked._

"_If you are going to be me and him combined. You have to drive something better than a pick up!" Winchester said firmly._

"_Oh sorry!" Forester replied as he poured himself another glass._

"_You know if Jessica Fletcher is real in another universe, does that mean that we are all…you know fictional in another one?" Jo pondered to which Sam shrugged._

"_I can see that," Sam thoughtfully replied. "And then all we'd need is someone to yell cut and we could all just go home."_

"_Yeah, but on days like today you'd be pulling in twice the bucks me and her would be pulling in," Winchester said. "Because you'd be doing a double part, not to mentione we'd…what? All be some ex pretty boy actors trying to bust out of old soap opera parts?"_

"_That is cheerful?" Forester said._

"_Hey, I'm just saying you got to start somewhere and a lot of those guys start as the dumb jock boyfriend in angsty crap or those stupid super aged kid during daytime or if they really aren't lucky, they had a bit part in a remake of a 70's slasher movies," Winchester said. "Though I'm hoping whoever plays me in that world at least has some smoking co-stars under his belt."_

"_Who exactly?" Forester asked._

"_Well unlike the goof ball that plays you two I'm thinking, he'd have worked with…."_

"_What Jessica Alba? Michelle Williams?" Jo asked to which Winchester smiled._

"_Yeah I can live with those…and that other smoking chick out of sin city, you know Goldie," he said with a smirk._

"_You realise he'd be working with them, not doing what you are implying," Sam replied stoically._

"_I'm sure he is quite capable of scoring a smart and really sexy co-star if he wanted to," Winchester retorted to which Sam glared at him, to which Winchester replied with a sympathetic grin and slap on the back. "And I'm sure yours could; if he could find one who'd take pity on him."_

"_Jesus, the ego has landed hasn't it," Bobby said tossing the envelope down on the table. "We getting this over with or what?"_

* * *

**The Morning After  
**

"What the hell are you doing?" Winchester asked his brother as Sam continued to be more interested in his papers than helping to clean up.

"Working," Sam curtly replied.

Winchester put down the towel he had in his hand. "You found us a gig?"

"What?" Sam asked looking up for a moment, before shaking his head. "No."

A confused Winchester pulled out a chair to sit down. "Then what are you working on Sammy? Is it where my contract is because I thought…I thought we talked about that?"

Sam looked his brother firmly in the eye. "No, you talked. You rambled, you ranted and the only thing that is pretty clear is that can't seem to make up your mind."

"You make it sound…"

,"No Dean. I get it. I get it but you can't say you don't want to go to hell then the next minute tell me to drop it because it would mean that I would end up dead andthen expect me just to drop it," Sam said. "But I'm not trying to look for Lilith at the moment. For one thing, my head hurts and the second; it isn't like we have other responsibilities to deal with."

"Responsibilities?" Winchester asked.

"You dumped the poor guy on us and even though I don't like the teaching him how to shoot, I get it."

"Get what?"

"I'm saying it you are right about it being wrong to throw him back without him being able to take care of himself," Sam explained. "Even if he isn't 'family' to us."

"So what are you suggesting?" Winchester tentatively asked.

"I don't know Dean. But it isn't right that we don't do something," Sam said with a shrug before getting up from the table.

Winchester smiled as he watched his brother leave. "That's right Sam. That is right."

* * *

**_The Night Before_**

"_You okay?" Winchester said finding her outside after he noticed her not sitting at the table._

"_Sure," Jo replied, before looking in the window to see the others still seated in the kitchen. "Shouldn't you be leading the celebrations?"_

_He grinned. "I'm happy enough. Anyways your Mom and Bobby seem to have taken over."_

"_Yeah," she said with a nod. "Seems they are happier about things than you are."_

_Winchester thought for a second. "I'm not exactly happy, happy about things. Apart from having it confirmed that people should listen to me when I tell them I only have one brother."_

"_Okay," she said. "Thought Bobby was going to have a heart attack when Sam opened that thing."_

"_Well, think him and your Mom was expecting the worst," Winchester said. "Though seeing how they have probably seen a lot worse shit than us, I don't want to think what that would be."_

"_You are a changeling from Pasadena and Sam is really an orphan alien baby?" Jo drunkenly added._

"_And Forester is a piss poor shape shifter with an inferiority complex," Winchester added._

_Her face hardened for a moment. "That is mean."_

"_You said I'm from Pasadena."_

"_The inferiority complex part was a bit below the belt though," she said._

"_Doesn't mean he doesn't have one though, does it?" Winchester said. "And over some girl too."_

"_He loved her. Probably still does," Jo said. "Kind of nice in a way, to still be able to be in love with someone even after all that hurt."_

"_Isn't healthy though," Winchester replied. "Not for him it isn't. Whatever screwed him over enough to make him believe he can't at least move on to someone who can really feel that way back, really fucked up his head."_

"_Yeah maybe," Jo said avoiding his gaze, to which Winchester stilled, reaching out a hand to raise her sight to his._

"_He deserves better than that. People who can feel like he does about that Rory chick and don't turn into a sicko with a shrine in their closet and a telescopic lense, well they deserve better than wanting to be with someone who doesn't understand what they are feeling," He said. "Well, they deserve someone who can really be with them, you understand me?" _

_She smiled. "When the fuck did you start writing an advice column?"_

"_It is that time of the evening," Winchester said. "Anyways what is with you and Forester? You two seem sort of off."_

_She huffed for a moment. "I kind of…this afternoon I…I'll deal with it."_

"_Fine," Winchester said looking back into the house. He watched them for a few moments, his brother, Bobby, Ellen and his not brother, not friend who seemed to be fitting in now._

"_You coming back in?" Jo asked._

"_In a minute." Winchester said. "I'll be behind you."_

"_Okay," she said with a smile making a move to join the others._

_He stood there in pale artificial light of Bobby's yard for a few moments._

"_What you doing?" the voice behind him asked. "Waiting for a bus?"_

"_No…the last train to Clarksville," he retorted before turning to face Ruby._

"_Sounds like you are missing a party," she stated flatly._

"_Yeah."_

"_Any reason I wasn't invited?" she asked._

"_Didn't think that attending an opening of an envelope was your style. But maybe I am wrong," he chortled._

_She shoved her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket. "So is he or isn't he yours."_

_Winchester thought for a moment turning back to look at the crowd inside the house "It kind of depends on how you look at it."_

"_What is that supposed to mean?" Ruby asked as Winchester continued to look thoughtfully at the others after a moment he turned to face her._

"_Forester isn't blood to me and Sam," he stated. "Sample two came back as a negative match in all counts, Samples one and three on the other hand shared enough genetic shit to imply our parents were the same people."_

"_Oh," she said her face lighting up. "That is good."_

"_But doesn't mean Forester can't be family."_

_His reply caused her to knot her brow. "Really?"_

"_Yeah, really," Winchester said._

"_Family? You planning on making Forester part of your screwed up 'hunting' family?"_

_Winchester smiled. "Would seem wrong not to have a Dean about the place, wouldn't it?"_

"_That isn't going to work," she stated with a smile. "You simply replacing yourself with him when the time comes ."_

"_Straight arrow with over grown sense of right and wrong to the point hewon't deck a demon because she is wearing a girl? Someone who has hunters and demons on his tail? Place to start isn't it. Plus what is Sam going to do let someone he feels sorry just stand there pissing in the wind? Seems a shame if he does seeing how Forester seems to be someone he can talk to other than you and me?" Winchester said in a reasonable calm tone._

_"Yeah right. Like Forester is going to just stick around?"_

_"You so sure Forester isn't? Anyways who would Sammy have to look after my baby when he's ready to hit the road again? Sure as hell not having you ride shotgun in her."_

"_I'm telling you that all that would do is get Forester and Sam killed."_

"_Really?" Winchester asked with a grin on his face. "You really sure about that?"_


End file.
